The Swingset
by gone-phishing
Summary: "Soul, I'm cold!" "Well maybe if you weren't using your jumper as an ass warmer, you might feel better." Perhaps not the most romantic duo ever, but it just wouldn't be Soul and Maka otherwise. SoMa AU
1. Prologue  Broken Promises

**Prologue 1 - Broken Promises.**

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><p>As the full moon rose to its peak, filling half the midnight sky as well as illuminating the cobblestone streets with pale light, a chill began to set in over the relatively small city. Children wrapped in their blankets like a cocoon, huddled curled up to escape the cold, as the adults lit fireplaces as well as shut doors and windows.<p>

The temperature was dropping.

Near the centre of the city, lay a small park, lined with trees, their overgrowth leaving an eerie shadow to descend upon the grass. An old, out of date playground sat in the middle of the empty field, its sign rusted and the paint scratching off of the picket fence that used to surround it. Near the edge, sat a small, awkwardly placed swing set. Like the rest of the playground, the paint had long gone, leaving a slowly deteriorating metal to rot in the open. Its ropes that connected the seat to the frame were thinning, as a layer of grime and algae ate away at the threads one by one. Seated on the decrepit piece of play equipment was the silhouette of a small child that had its face covered by dirty blonde hair, as if keeping something secret. The child looked to be no more than 7 or 8, and judging by the way its hair was pulled into neat pigtails as if to celebrate some special event, the figure was a little girl.

Another strong gust of frigid air blew the swing, along with the child as her small pigtails flapped in the wind. The rusty chains creaked and groaned in agitation at the sudden movement, as the child swung her tiny legs back and forth, in an attempt to regain at least a small portion of warmth. It was useless. Her skin still felt like ice to the touch, as most of her limbs had numbed hours ago. Her dull emerald eyes were fixed squarely on her lap, unmoving.

Unseeing.

Every once in a while, she would lift her head as her eyes would brighten in determination, before she seemed to remember something, then proceed to drop her head once more.

It was a routine.

One that had been going on for almost 5 hours.

She let out a small breath of air, watching in fascination as it rapidly condensed into a misty cloud of white steam in the frigid air. She glanced over warily to the other side of the street, opposite the park, where flashing lights, loud music, and scantily clad women stood lining the streets. She dropped her head once more, as lies and broken promises from earlier filled her mind. Two main images were burned into her mind's eye, one of her father telling her to just 'wait outside for a minute', then one of his back turned as he disappeared across the street.

The child wasn't sure how many hours had passed since then, but she was sure that it was more than a minute.

She fiddled with the ribbons on her dress in an attempt to distract herself. It was now covered in a mixture of dirt, water and tears. Hours ago, it had been a bright yellow, and she along with her ribbons had shone as bright as the sun. Now, it was stained brown, and clung to her body and legs, as the moisture caused to fabric to stick to her skin.

She glanced down to her feet, glaring at the small party hat left abandoned on the ground.

Engraved with sliver lettering of her choice, were the mocking words of '_happy birthday'._

She almost cried.

If only that were so.


	2. Prologue The Music of my Soul

**Prologue 2 - The Music of My Soul**

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><p>As the huge full moon rose to its peak, filling half the midnight sky as well as illuminating the cobblestone streets with pale light, a chill began to set in over the relatively small city. Children wrapped in their blankets like a cocoon, huddled curled up to escape the cold, as the adults lit fireplaces as well as shut doors and windows.<p>

The temperature was dropping.

Near the one of the out edges of the city, a tiny figure walked proudly. Though it felt like the midnight night air was freezing the blood in his veins, and his muscles were screaming in agony from the constant stain he put on them, he continued to walk, his shoulders squared, jaw clenched and crimson eyes hard. If one looked past his tough exterior, they could see his cheeks that were stained in tears that glinted occasionally in the moonlight, as well as his eyes- puffy red from crying.

He was dressed in incredibly formal attire. He wore a blood-red dress shirt, along with a tie of the same color, as well as a pitch black and striped gray suit. Even his shoes were polished to perfection, as they seemed to glow as light bounced and reflected off them. His usually unruly snow white hair was sleeked back and tamed by a simple black hair band. Overall, it looked as if had just escaped some high class ball, or party,-which was in fact true - as his attire appeared to cost almost a fortune in itself.

Snippets of conversation occasionally filtered through his mind, but the explosive yelling, shouting and arguing dominated his thoughts.

He desperately attempted to block the memories, so he increased his pace ignoring how he had seemingly lost feeling in his right leg. A chilled breeze blew; ruffling his hair running the hours spent trying to tame it, as a cold chill ran up his spine. His clothes themselves seemed to absorb the frigid winds, cooling it down so much it felt like he was wearing ice.

He was slowly beginning to regret his decision.

The memories of his evening began to trickle into his mind. His first live performance. He sitting all dressed up in front of his piano, hundreds of attendants staring expectantly at him. Him playing the music of his soul, and watching the crowd either grimace in distaste, or force sickeningly sweet fake smiles, pretending not to be deeply disturbed by his music, in comparison with _his. _Him leaving the stage, feeling almost proud of himself, as he believed in his all childish innocence, that he had done well.

Him walking past his parents door later that same night, hearing their words flow through his mind like a vile poison, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

'_Talentless'_

'_Filth'_

'_Spoilt brat'_

'_Worthless'_

He remembered shouting at them, trying to explain that it was the music of his _soul_, so that's why the crowd didn't understand.

His parents, up until that moment always caring and kind to the poor boy, showed their true faces by gazing at him with cold contempt, then repeating said insults to his face.

Telling him was wasn't nearly as good and his older brother.

Telling him he never would be.

He realized then that maybe his parents hadn't been so caring and kind his entire life. If he thought back on it, they were never there in the first place.

It was always nannies, caretakers, his piano teacher and his brother who were there with him. He hardly even saw his so-called parents.

It was when his perfect little life came crashing down on his shoulders that he ran. '_I hate you's_ were exchanged between mother and son, while his father just stood watching in morbid amusement. He barreled out of the mansion, still clothed in his expensive, pristine suit, his mother's final 'loving' words ringing in his ears.

'_Wherever you go, just don't damage that suit. It's worth more than you are.'_


	3. Prologue Our Fates Intertwine

**Author's Note - This is the end of the prologue people. Keep in mind when you are reading this, the characters are only children (about 7 or 8) at this time. **

**Anyway, onto more important things, I uploaded the actual cover page for this story that I drew, so please do check it out.**

**http : / / gone-phishing . deviantart . com /# / d47z6cb**

**Just delete the spaces.**

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><p><strong>Prologue 3 - Our Fates Intertwine<strong>

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><p>A small boy cried out in alarm when he felt the tip of his shoe catch a root of a tree, and he was sent tumbling towards the ground. In an attempt to shield his face, he raised his arms to absorb the impact of the fall. His tactic worked for the most part, except for the fact that the mixture of gravel and dirt of the ground had torn into the soft fabric of his shirt, tearing it in multiple places as well as coating his elbows with a thick layer of brown. He felt like wailing in despair. He had already managed to break the only words his mother left for him, and it had only been hours since he left. Using the tree beside him as leverage, he pulled himself to his feet, letting out an audible grunt at the amount of effort required, considering his clammy, numb limbs.<p>

He trudged silently, further along the dark path lit only by the moonlight, which was partially blocked by trees anyway, head held high, elbows muddy and eyes shining in determination.

A small part of his conscious was begging him to return home, to apologize profusely for his behavior then get one of the butlers to run a hot bath so he could just relax. Then perhaps, he would watch TV with his older brother, before curling up in his thick blankets on his king sized bed before finally drifting off to sleep.

So caught up was he in his fantasies of what he would do when he returned home, he didn't quite register the change in scenery as the mass of trees slowly gave way to an open field, with a small playground resting in its centre.

It wasn't until he almost walking into the rusty picket fence surrounding the place, before he was brought back to reality with a bitter disappointed to find that he was not in fact home, warm and in bed, but in the middle of a random park and freezing his toes off.

Glancing around the clearing, he immediately noticed several things.

One was that the small tears and cuts on his elbows were deeper than he originally thought, as they had sliced clean through the fabric and into his skin, his blood leaving trails of crimson to stain his garments.

Secondly, was the fact that the way the moonlight glinted off the rusty play equipment gave it an incredibly eerie feeling, as he suddenly found himself apprehensive to approach the daunting structure,

Thirdly, was that he was not alone.

The rusted chains of the old swing set creaked and groaned every time the petit figure swung its legs backwards and forwards.

He guessed that whoever was on the play equipment was around his own age. Either that, or they were incredibly tall but younger, or absolutely tiny, but older. Neither assumptions changed the fact that the mysterious figure had almost an exact replica of his own build.

Suddenly, a huge wave of relied washed over him. The constant sound of creaking chains, with the combination of the dark silhouette illuminated only by pale moonlight, made it seem like one a scene from a horror movie he had once watched with his brother. Psychotic murderers couldn't be this small right?

Gathering up all his courage, bravery and every other emotion he could think of, he attempted to grab the figures attention.

"Oi!" he yelped, his voice coming out a few octaves higher than intended, making his attempt at a manly yell come out more like a mouse's squeak. To his surprise, the figure seemed to hear him, as it whipped around instantly, pigtails flying wildly at the sudden movement, as emerald green hues clashed with molten crimson.

The figure – no, girl, he knew it was a girl now – seemed equally surprised as he was, as her eyes were wide and rounded and her mouth was left slightly open. He couldn't help but notice that if she opened her mouth a little more, she could very well be pretending to be a fish like he had to in his school play.

The girls eyes momentarily darted away from his own, glancing down at his attire and the way he held himself. Taking cautious steps forward, he slowly approached the girl who had yet to move a muscle since he revealed himself. Though she continued to rock back and forth because of the exertion of her previous swings, her legs remained frozen by her sides as she watched him step forward.

"What are you doing?" he asked again his voice sounding more confident this time, as he watched her form visibly relax once she got a good look at him, as she seemed to determine that he wasn't much of a threat.

She seemed to ponder over his question for a while, her face contorting into a soft frown as she tried to remember what she really was doing there. Suddenly, the memories of her father flooded her mind as she forced a smile to the unnamed boy standing awkwardly before her.

"I'm waiting." She spoke for the first time, her voice stronger that the boy would have imagined. She didn't sound anything like the maids at his mansion, and their high-pitched whiny voices. Her's was more deep and guttural, and for some strange reason, he found himself liking it.

"For what?" He asked quizzically, unable to see what exactly she could be waiting for at midnight in the middle of a park.

"Papa." She replied, her voice slightly colder than before at the mention of her 'father'.

"Why?" He questioned, still not understanding why a little girl was alone in the middle of the night waiting for her father. Surely that was like…dangerous? He watched in curiosity as she sighed slightly, at his question.

"He told me to." She answered, firmly, her eyes lighting up slightly. Instantly, he knew that although she looked frail on the outside, the fiery emerald that could meet his molten crimson, was someone who had a tough interior.

"Papa's girl, eh?" he joked slightly, carefully studying her reaction to his seemingly playful words. The result was instantaneous. Her cheeks flared bright red, her eyes seemed to light on fire and she almost hissed at the accusation.

"Am not!" she cried in defense, raising her arms and flailing them around to clearly display her defiance. She was in no way, shape or form, anything like her papa!

"Are too!" he replied snidely, smirking as he watched amusedly how she reacted to his provocation. She really was fun to tease.

"I'm nothing like papa!" She claimed, puffing out her chest proudly then pointing to it with her thumb. She glared lightly at the snow-haired boy that had intruded in her alone time, proceed to break down her walls and for the first time in months, get her to show some of the attitude she had buried deep down in her own mind. How he did it, was unimportant right now. All that matters was proving to this unnamed boy that she was _nothing_ like her papa.

"Are so!" He retorted childishly, secretly enjoying how riled up she was getting at that simple accusation.

"Then I bet you're a mama's boy!" She snarled in response, lips curling into a smirk of pure satisfaction as his own grin fell of his face at her words.

"n-no.." he replied weakly, memories of earlier flooding his mind. Yelling. Screaming. Fighting.

"Are so!" she replied with smug satisfaction, using the exact same words he had used moments earlier.

"No! I… I thought I was until tonight" he whimpered in response. It wasn't until the dirty-blonde haired girl eventually got over the fact that she seemed to have won the childish argument, that she realized the full effect that her words had on the poor boy.

As soon as they left her mouth, he seemed to visibly deflate, as if he was a rag doll with all the stuffing pulled out. She watched, feeling the ugly tendrils of guilt claw at her conscious, as he slid down the rusted metal poll until he was seated on the ground as her buried his head in his hands.

She heard what sounded like a faint sniffle from the boy, before she snapped. It was her fault he was like this, and she had to fix it. For some odd reason, she wanted his playful side to return.

"Was? What happened?" she questioned carefully, keeping her tone low, being cautious not to tread on his emotions. She was skating on thin ice here, and she knew it. She was a complete stranger to the boy, and asking him to just open up all of his secrets to her was insensitive. But, if it would help ease the weight on his shoulders, she would be glad to listen to his stories and give him a shoulder to cry upon.

"I… " he started, his voice suddenly hoarse as he seemed to choke on air. She knew at that moment that unseen tears were most likely running down his cheeks, and immiadetley felt horrible for causing such a response."– I don't know!" he continued, his voice cracking slightly.

Concern immediately filled her being, as she stood and slowly made her way over to the hid trembling body. Whether he was shaking due to the cold or due to the emotions he was feeling was unclear, but she simply hugged him; the one who called her a papa's girl, the one with the expensive clothes, the stranger that she still didn't know the name of.

"It's okay, you don't have to push yourself." She whispered soothingly in his ear, rubbing small circled on his back.

"But…but I don't understand! How can a parent hate their child! I didn't even do anything wrong.. " he broke down into a mixture of sobs and sniffles after that, and she couldn't help but agree. His words stirred something deep within her, their plain truth and the memories that they brought up affecting her far more than she would have liked. Unwillingly, tears began to leak from her own eyes, as she muttered into his ear.

"Shh… I don't understand it either."

Both sat crying silently into each other for at least 10 minutes, before the snowy-haired boy began to recollect himself. He came to the horrifying realization that he just told his life story to, and bawled his eyes out in front of a total stranger… totally uncool.

"S-sorry, that was really uncool." He apologized half heartedly. True, it was 'uncool', but he was sure if he was in the same situation a second time, he would have done exactly the same as he did the first time.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anybody about that 'uncool' moment of yours." She replied, the earlier tears erased from her face, leaving only puffy red eyes as evidence that she had ever shed one in the first place.

"You don't even know me!" He responded, raising his eyebrows at the total stranger who proimised to 'not tell anybody'. Who would she tell anyway?

"Good point, but if we ever met again…" she said, as he nodded in agreement. What she said made sense. If they ever met again, it would be embarrassing if she mentioned it, so he supposed he should give her some credit.

".. where do you live?" he uncertainly, in an attempt to work out if they ever would see each other again.

"…shouldn't you as my name first?" she snorted cheekily, poking her tongue out as a torrential blush ran across his cheeks as he came to the realization that he may have sounded like a complete stalker.

"Shut up!" he growled lightly, at the light chuckles she was letting loose moments earlier. Slowly standing up, while dusting off her dress, she pointed to the other side of town, the complete opposite to where his own home was.

"I live over there." She replied evenly, as if a simple hand gesture clearly displayed the location, street and number of her house.

"Why would you live in a dump?" The young boy asked, absolutely confounded at this new insight he had gained about the girl he just met.

"…what? I don't live in a dump?" she replied hotly, taking his statement as an insult to her house. Sure, it was a simple flat with only 1 bedroom, and barely enough space to move around in, but it was no dump! She spent the majority of her free time cleaning that place, and he had the nerve to compare it to rubbish…

"B-but papa said that only trash live over there, so why would a person live in somewhere like that?" he said, honestly confused to what she was getting at. His papa had told him, in explicit detail too, that only rats and trash lived over in that dump when he had asked about it one evening. So why would this girl live in a place like that? I didn't make sense.

"I don't get it. That's where us poor people live.." she muttered slightly dejectedly in reply. She had noticed his clothes when he first revealed himself, but thought nothing of it. Now, the more she thought of it, the more it made sense that he belonged to the rich, upper class that lived on the opposite side of the city.

"Really? You don't have lots of money?" he asked astounded, glad to change to subject but also because he had never actually met somebody who did not own their own mansion, large estate, or fortune.

"Y-yeah. Mama can't work, and papa…. He works only sometimes, so we only just have enough money for food." She attempted to explain to the rich boy. She didn't think he completely understood what she meant, and wanted to get it through his head.

"Hah, can't imagine that. Why don't you just ask your butler to lend you guys some money?" he said, somewhat confused by their train of thought. When he ran out of spending money, his butler would always have extra change, so that he never actually ran out. Surely these people would have just borrowed some of their butler's money?

"W-we don't have a butler." She replied somewhat shakily, not being completely sure what exactly this 'butler' was. Not that she would ever actually ask was it was. No, that would destroy her pride, so she simply settled with pretending to know, until the boy explained it.

"W-what? Why not?" he asked, completely confused. He had never met someone without their own butler before.

"I don't know.."

"You should get one!" he almost shouted eagerly, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Hmm?"

"They're really nice, and they help out a lot. Some of the even do your homework for you!" he explained, listing some of the decent qualities of butlers in his opinion.

"Really? That sounds cool. I'm gonna ask papa when he gets back." She replied enthusiastically, now somewhat understanding what he was talking about.

"Where'd he go anyway?" The snow-haired boy asked with a singular white eyebrow raised in curiosity. The girl simply grimaced slightly, before pointing towards the opposite side of the street.

"Over there." She spat the words like a curse. Only once had she ever tried to find him when he disappeared like this, and she would forever regret it, as the things she saw that day scarred her memory.

"Wanna go find him?" he asked, as he seated himself of the swing beside her own.

She shook her head vehemently in response.

"Nah, ill just wait."

The two elapsed into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts about their families and lives.

It was the girl who broke the silence, as she came to the realization that she had been with this un named boy for almost an hour, and she still didn't even know why he was here, let alone his name.

"Why are you here anyway?"

He was silent for a few minutes, and just as she began to doubt that he was going to reply, he did.

"..I ran away."

It was a short, simple answer, too much so for her taste. After all, why would someone from a rich family simply run away? That kind of thing just didn't happen.

"Why?" she persisted, eyebrows raised and tone light.

"Everybody hates me." He snapped testily. He didn't particularly like where this conversation was heading, but could do nothing now to steer them off this track now that she had her mind set.

"You sure?" she pondered out loud, unaware that he shot her yet another confounded look. He was definitely not expecting that kind of response.

"Yeah. Why?"

She frowned slightly in response, before answering.

"Well, I don't hate you and I'm somebody."

"I mean everybody back there." He replied, gesturing with a wave of his hand backwards towards his house.

"What about your butler?"

"Huh?"

"You said they were really nice and did your homework for you. Would they hate you?" she pondered, forehead creased and eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"…I guess not." He replied somewhat shakily, feeling somewhat better about the situation. So not everyone hated him. That was a good start. He slowly stood up from the swing to stretch his legs, but felt something get crushed under heel of his shoe.

Glancing at the ground he soon spotted…something. It was a mixture of blue and gray, as the gray areas lit up to a brilliant silver in the moonlight, he was able to read the delicate lettering.

"..Why a party hat?" he said, glancing back at the girl still seated on the swing behind him. He watched silently as her demeanor appeared to fall slightly, her shoulder slouching slightly more and her eyes losing some of their spark.

"It's my birthday.."

Came her reply a few minutes later. It was barely audible over the soft rustling of the trees, as the wind filtered through their branches.

"Really?" He question in disbelief. Weren't kids meant to have huge birthday parties with all their friends, before opening their multitude of presents and then sleeping in the same bed with their parents that night? Not sit alone in the cold, waiting for a mysterious 'papa' that seemed to never be there.

"Yeah."

"What did you get?"

"..huh?"

"I mean, what presents did you get?" he persisted, in an attempt to get the girl to open up a little.

"Presents…" she muttered more to herself, as he detected a slight note of confusion in her tone. More than a little curious at her response, he decided to keep prodding.

"You know! Presents! The gifts you get on your birthday, and Christmas. Sometimes Easter too if you've been good."

"…still don't get it." She sighed half heartily, before gazing up at the daunting full moon, its pale glow reflecting off her eyes making the emerald spheres almost glow in the dark. It was a hauntingly beautiful sight.

"Okay, okay how about this. What did you wish for?" He said, shaking her shoulder slightly to get her attention. Her reaction was almost immediate. Her head snapped around to face him, her eyes wide in surprise.

"I haven't wished for anything yet."

"Why?"

"Can't think of anything."

She slumped back into the seat, resting her head against the rusty chains ignoring the pangs of discomfort and cold that shot through her cheek. Suddenly, like a ray of light in a world filled with darkness, a bright idea came to her.

"Ooh I know!" she exclaimed, standing out of the uncomfortable swing before turning to face the snowy-haired boy.

"What?" he grunted, trying to work out exactly what had gotten her so excited.

"I wish for you to go home." She proclaimed loudly, smiling at his dumbfounded look.

"Wha- you don't like me here?" he replied, a small amount of hurt creeping into his tone. He honestly enjoyed her company, and thought she was the same with him…. He guessed he got it wrong. He was about to storm off in a huff, before her voice cut him off.

"No, it's not that. But you are probably worrying your family." She explained, her eyes worriedly glancing at his reaction.

"They don't care." He replied flatly, his voice completely toneless. He was in no mood to further discuss how much his parents hated him…

"All of them? Even your butlers?" she asked with a childish innocence, that he couldn't even deny the truth of her statement. Suddenly, thoughts and images of his older brother filtered through his mind, and he realized the absolute truth of her statement.

"You're right.." he whispered to himself more than her, as she simply nodded her head in agreement.

"I'll grant your wish on one condition." He turned to her, his voice full of its typical confidence as he wore a smirk that she wished she could simply wipe from his face.

"What?"

"Tell me your name." he said simply. She couldn't help but grin widely at this as she realized that she had been talking to him for over an hour now, and she still didn't know his name, nor he hers.

"..Maka. Just Maka" she replied, unwilling to say her last name, for her father had somewhat of a bad reputation for chasing skirts, and didn't want to be affiliated with a man like him.

"Soul." He replied, reaching out and shaking her hand. So her surprise, his hand was warm to the touch, while her own felt like it had been sitting in a bucket of ice.

"I'll see you round, Maka!" He yelled, as he sprinted off in the opposite direction.

"Yeah…see you round… Soul!" she called out after him, not quite understanding why she desperately wanted him to hear her 'goodbye'.

_Soul..huh. What a weird name_ she thought to herself, swinging her legs backwards and forwards in an attempt to ignore the aching loneliness than had only gotten worse ever since Soul's departure.

Little did she know that a certain snowy-haired boy felt the exact same thing.


	4. New School

**Author's Note : A wild update appeared!**

**Anyway, for starters, I'm just going to say that the uniform I discribed looks sort of like the Sparotoi uniform. **

**I even did a fanart for exactly what it looks like if you were curioius. Please do check if out :P**

**http : / gone-phishing . deviantart . com / gallery / 31998367# / d482iit**

**Just kill the spaces.**

**Anyway, this chapter is a starting point. You get a small look into the huge difference between their previous lives, as well as how they act towards other people. Note, they are both about 15 at this point,**

**Please read and review ^-^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 - New school!<strong>

A body shifted uneasily under a thin, scratchy, sheet as the biting cold of the early January morning nipped at the body's uncovered toes, fingers and nose. Judging by the size of the lump under the blanket, the long, dirty blond hair spilling out on the covers, and the dainty toes and hands, the body belonged to a female.

Even when she was drifting aimlessly in the realms of the unconscious, she could feel the discomfort of the frost on her limbs.

She rolled over, curling up into a ball while subconsciously trying to gather some heat and feeling into her feet and hands- eyes still blissfully closed.

The girl could feel the dreamy haze of sleep begin to leave her body, as it was slowly pulled out of the endearing nothingness that surrounded her mind when she slept. Slowly, bit by bit, her limbs began to stretch out periodically, as she sprawled out on the sheets.

The thin sheet fell away, leaving the greater portion of her chest unclothed as the merciless cold of a winter morning beat down upon it. This new discomfort, added to the long list of others, was the deciding factor that made the decision for her, no matter how much she protested waking up.

Bleary emerald eyes blinked open to the small dark room that surrounded her. No sunlight filtered through her only window, as a thick layer of angry looking black clouds blanketed the sky, clothing the entire city in a shade of gray.

She pulled herself into a sitting position, her sore muscles and frozen nerves crying in protest.

Even though she could hardly feel her feet, her whole body just _ached_, and the sky was probably going to crack open later and fill the entire city with sheets of icy water, she couldn't help but let a huge smile cross her face.

Who wouldn't? it was her first day of school! That was something to be excited about, right?

Well, although others might think it a tad odd that a 14 year old- going on 15, was having their very first year in a school – ever – she didn't really care. There were reasons she couldn't attend school before, every one falling under the major category of 'Can't afford it'. But that was unimportant. Just because she had never been to a legitimate school before, didn't mean she was dumb. Actually, it was quite the opposite.

The sole reason she was even going to a school now, was BEAUSE of her intelligence, which won her one of the famous scholarships to the prestigious DMWA academy.

Though she never had a formal 'teacher' as such, she had learned from a plethora of different people, as well as her beloved books that she was able to borrow from the high-class library on the _other_ side of town.

She slowly rose from small straw-filled bed, as she reached for her new school uniform. Maka still found it difficult to believe that they paid for the uniforms themselves, because otherwise she may have been in some trouble.

She began to pull off the tattered rags of what remained of her pyjamas.

Soon, she was standing bare in the small room, watching with a small smile on her lips as her breath condensed into puffy white clouds.

Reaching out to the clothes hanging from the wall, she pulled each item off one by one. Maka kneeled down, searching blindly under the bed using only touch, until she felt exactly what she was looking for. Pulling out her cleanest pair of underwear – she had pinched it from a clothing store on the other side of the city when the store was closing down – which were pure white, unstained, untainted like the rest.

She decided since this was going to be a new start for her, she deserved to pretend to be like the underwear – pure, unused – if only for a little while. Pulling the garments on, she turned back to the uniform now laid out on her bed. She almost gasped when she realized how incredibly high quality the material appeared to be. …were those buttons silver?

The overcoat almost reached the floor, as it was a thick material with an almost leather like quality to it. The stockings were fine and black, and she couldn't believe how smooth they were, compared to the clothes she was used to. The undershirt was a grey color, its collar appearing to contrast almost angelically with the white overcoat. The skirt that it came with, was surprisingly short, but was almost a fine, murky gray color, as she guessed it would be much brighter in the sunlight, than in the shadows of her small room. The attire came complete with a pair of perfect, white gloves, as well as an almost navy blue tie.

She immediately began to pull on each piece of clothing, relishing how soft the fabric felt against her skin, as well as the warmth every extra item provided.

She finished dressing quickly, grinning down at how.. un-poor she looked at that moment. Her eyes darted across the bed to see if she had missed anything, and she soon spotted a pair of twin hair bands, each having tiny skulls decorating their outside edges. She decided then, that on the first day of her new life, she deserved to at least remember her old one. She tied her hair into loose pigtails, each one perfect on each side, obviously the work of years of practice and precision.

She almost yelped when she saw the time, as the small red lights blinked 6:30 mockingly at her. She grabbed her suitcase that was at least 30kg – not of her own clothes, but countless books – before hurriedly glancing around the small apartment that had housed her for almost a year. She promised silently to herself that she would return someday, as she literally barreled out of the door and down the street, desperate to not be late for her first day of boarding school at the prestigious DWMA academy.

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><p>A young woman shifted uneasily before the large, daunting door before her. She was dressed in a fairly short, frilly, black dress, high heels that added almost another inch to her height, and a small white, petticoat. Her short brown hair framed her cherub-like face and wide chocolate irises perfectly, giving her an almost urethral like quality.<p>

Though her features may be considered beautiful, to the family she was owned by, and working for, she was yet another faceless maid.

She sighed heavily in defeat when she rapped on the door yet again, and not a single sound was heard from within. The young master had a particularly loud, aggressive and bordering on violent spat her owners the night before, about his personal choice in schooling.

As an Evans, it was expected that he would be given the highest education possible, all the while improving his skills as a musician on the side. The boy had accepted his fate young, playing the piano to simply please his parents and his audience only conveying thinly veiled distain towards them.

All his life, he had had the best of the best. They were all private tutors from a variety of countries, all of them being specialists trying to teach a child basic theory knowledge. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it could only last so long.

It wasn't long before the damn blocking the young boy's true emotions broke, and the parents found out firsthand how much he had grown to loathe them. For most parents, the maid mused, it would be a horrifying discovery, but for the Head of the Evans household, the feeling was returned almost entirely.

It was then that the always obedient youngest Evans boy began to rebel. Though, it was in his own small way – slouching in a way that was unbefitting of a child of high society, using words that many aristocrats had never heard before, and his most latest development – demanding to be sent to a school instead of being tutored- he successfully managed to get under his overbearing parent's skin.

That was probably the reason why they agreed so easily to the idea of sending him to school. Of course, it was to the best private school in all the country, where only the most privileged were able to attend. It being a boarding school was an added bonus to both parties, as the animosity between parents and child had festered and grown to a level, where almost visible sparks were flying between them when they occupied the same space.

So, after all the arguing, fighting and convincing, here was the youngest Evans, fast asleep and about to be late for his first day.

The maid gulped in worry. This was NOT good. IF she couldn't wake him, his tardiness would of course be blamed on her, because who would believe a simple maid over the words of the young master?

Carefully, she began to open the door, sighing in relief when she felt it creak open without resistance – meaning that it was not locked.

Slowly, she crept inside, anxious to avoid the floorboards that would make any noise.

Unsurprisingly, she spotted the albino, tangled in his bed sheets, his naked torso visible, his head hanging off from the side of the bed, mouth wide open and drool seeping out. She briefly wondered what he was dreaming about, as he looked like a completely different person that he did while he was awake. There was no tension in his body; there was none of the strain he carried around day by day. Dare she say it? He looked almost… happy.

She was trembling as she grabbed the sheet, and slowly pulled it off his body.

There was no way she would EVER wake up the young master, especially when she was in the same room. But, if she took away his sheet, he would soon wake up on his own and she could scamper off without being seen, as he would be none the wiser. In one quick motion, she ripped the sheet from his body, allowing it to fall to the floor with a soft thump. He groaned quietly, his arm reaching out to search for the warmth that had just been stolen from him.

The maid crept out of the room, a small smile playing across her lips.

Soul groaned in discomfort, still attempting to find the heat source that had gone missing, frowning as the fog of sleep began to clear. Half an hour ago he was warm.

Now he was cold.

What could have happened?

He felt vaguely like he was forgetting something important. He shifted through the previous days memories… eating breakfast with his brother, the meeting, the fight…. The fight. Something about that. What was he fighting about again? Just the new scho-

"Shit!" he cursed, as he snapped his eyes open before literally jumping out of bed. The blinking lights of 7:15 stared back at him. He cursed again as he rapidly began throwing clothes around in his room, searching for where he put his new school uniform… He swore he dropped it on the floor in the corner…

Deciding to leave that operation for later, he began his quest to pack for his new boarding school.

Diving to the ground, he grabbed every piece of clothing within arm's reach before stuffing it all into the closest suitcase.

Quest complete.

Now that he had packed, all he needed to do was get dressed. He had hardly even realized that he was clothed only in his boxers. Even though it was a frigid winter morning, his room remained the same, blissfully warm temperature throughout the year, thanks to the fireplaces and heaters stationed around the house.

Glancing around the floor once more, to check if he had missed where he dropped his uniform, he sighed once more when he realized that it was not there. As he stood back up, he came face to face with the uniform, hanging neatly from his mirror, its ironed reflection mocking him.

Stupid maids! They had washed, dried and ironed the damn thing so it looked like one of the damn suits he always had to wear.

Though, to most people a clean, ironed uniform would be a good thing, to him it was an insult.

He wanted to create a different image at his new school, from his home.

He didn't want to be Soul Evans the perfect piano prodigy, always in a pristine suit without a single crinkle.

He wanted a crumpled uniform, a lopsided smirk and to simply be Soul. Not Soul Evans.

Frowning in distain, he pulled the uniform on as quickly as he could without falling over. Silver buttons, huh? He'd seen better.

Sprinting out of the room, suitcase in hand, he rushed down the stairs before barreling into the second kitchen, every maid and butler glancing worriedly at him as he went.

He spotted his high quality, breakfast that must have taken hours to make, before devouring the whole thing in less than ten seconds.

He was out the door and into the waiting limo in only 8 more.

The maid watching him smiled before commenting to the butler next to her

"Well, at least he liked it."


	5. And the World Stopped Turning

**Author's Note- Updates will most likely be more frequently now that I am actually enjoying writing this story. The chapters will start to get longer, as soon as I have more than an hour to write them. T.T**

**Anyway, please enjoy and tell me what you think.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5 - And the world stopped turning.<strong>

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><p>A blurry figure dashed through the crowded, traffic jammed streets of Death city, dodging pedestrians and diving the way out of cars all the while keeping up her pace. Time was running out for the girl.<p>

The usual freezing temperatures had little effect on her pace, seeing as her new uniform saved her from the bitter conditions.

Her hair, loosely tied into pigtails swung back and forth with every step she took, as her breathing slowly but surely grew heavier as the exhaustion from her excursions was slowly catching up with her.

The pale slivers of light from dawn ran across her cheek adding some warmth to her essentially numbed face.

Her heavy book bag swung back and forth wildly, every few steps crashing into her aching ribs causing her to flinch.

But all of that was unimportant to Maka Albarn.

All that mattered right now, was running as fast as possible so she could reach school, as fast as possible.

She briefly glanced towards the road, silently wishing she could be in one of the hundreds of cars that lined the roads. Maybe, she thought, that it could be both of her parents driving her to school, with them holding hands and exchanging pleasant conversation that did not begin with "You cheating bastard!"

Such a thought was quickly wiped away when reality descended upon her once again. It was a nice dream. But that was all it was. It would never happen in _real_ life, where not everyone had loving parents, a supportive family and some mushy prince charming on their way to sweep them off their feet.

No, she had learned a long time ago that reality was a bitch. Plain and simple. She had accepted that notion a long time ago, and learned to live with it.

But it still wasn't too much to ask to dream right?

She was brought out of her thoughts abruptly as she heard the scream of a car's tires. Her eyes widened in a slight amount of terror as she turned her head, that if the driver hadn't stopped in time, she may have became yet another faceless corpse, tossed into the morgue and left to rot in a nameless grave. Breaking away from her rather depressing thoughts, she focused her attention on the car itself.

She almost gasped in amazement when she realized what she was looking at. The 'car' was actually a striking black stretch limo, with tinted windows, red inner lining and black leather seats. The driver of the vehicle appeared to be wearing a formal suit, as Maka guessed that it was his job to drive such extravagancies around. The driver was glaring at her, his chocolate brown eyes narrowed in impatience and worry.

She could hear faint noises coming from inside the car, as she guessed the other occupants concealed behind the dark curtain were not too pleased with the sudden stop.

It then occurred to her that she had been standing in the middle of the road for almost a minute, gawking.

She almost blushed in embarrassment, as she slinked away towards the sidewalk. Maka heard a faint "what the hell are you doing, go, go, go!" from the closed window, as she snorted at the man's (the voice was deep, definitely masculine) impatience and rudeness.

The limo sped off only a second later, leaving her behind in a cloud of dust as she glared at the back of the back of the black tinted windows.

She headed off once more, pushing her endurance to the limits while a singular thought perforated her mind.

_Why did that voice sound so familiar?_

* * *

><p>Soul Eater Evans glared down at the suspicious stain coating the insides of his thighs, as if it was responsible for all the troubles and hardships he had ever encountered in his life. Who knows? Maybe it was.<p>

The idiotic driver had chosen the _perfect_ moment to brake abruptly. Of course, that perfect moment was after Soul had spent 5 minutes making himself then drink being incredibly careful not to spill it. And of course, the perfect moment to break was when he had raised the glass to his lips, so that it literally fell down as he yelped as he was thrown forward at the sudden stop. This left a rather large, dark stain on his new trousers, officially managing to already ruin his first day.

Who shows up to a prestigious academy looking like they pissed themselves?

No one.

_So uncool._

Suddenly the driver's head popped out from what looked like a hole in the front of the compartment, eyes wide in worry.

"Young master, are you alright?" he inquired, voice deep and monotonous.

"Yes, now hurry and get a move on!" he growled in response. If he was going to show up looking like he peed himself, there was no way he was going to be late on top of that.

"Are you completely sure Young Master? I can come back there and help you if you'd like."

Soul heard the man shuffle around as he came to the realization that the guy was actually serious! He was going to come back here and see if he 'needed help'.

Well 'help' be damned! Unless he had an exactly copy of his trousers, there really was no point.

"What the hell are you doing, go, go, go!" he snapped irritably, effectively ceasing the driver's movements, as he followed orders. In less than 5 seconds, they were off again, whizzing around corners and running through red lights to get there on time.

Now, back to the matter at hand. He glanced down wearily at the stain, noticing how it had only seemed to grow darker over time. Grabbing a washcloth from a compartment above his head he began to scrub.

_So uncool._

* * *

><p>Maka knew she must have been close to the school. Her book bag felt like an iron weight thanks to the miles she carelessly let it thrash around, bruising her already tender limbs. Sweat coated her flushed face as she panted heavily.<p>

Only a little longer, she told herself as she continued to trudge down the now clean streets of the rich portion of Death City.

As a whole, Death City was fairly well off. If one looked at the city itself and the people who lined the streets, they would see hardworking people, a clean city and some of the best educational services in the world. However, this was just the tip of the iceberg. Like almost every city and town, there was an underbelly.

A not so hardworking, not so well off, not so clean and not so educated place. And unsurprisingly, that was where Maka had lived her entire life.

It was a fairly new experience for her, walking through streets that weren't permanently stained, and buildings that had their fences intact, and their paint firmly plastered to the walls.

The glanced forward, catching the silhouette of the Academy on the horizon. She quickened her pace slightly, ignoring the dull throbbing in her side as the shape in the distance grew larger and larger with ever step.

As the building grew and grew, she also noticed another odd shape sittin atop the building's roof growing larger. At first glance, it looked like a bright blue blob. That was all she could make of it.

Every step closer, the volume increased. Someone was shouting, that she was sure of.

Now only 100 meters away, she could clearly see the 'bright blue blob' which was infact, a boy. –he looked like a very stupid one mind you, because really, who sits on the edge of the roof while shouting that he was a god? – but definitely a boy.

He had azure blue hair that kicked out wildly forming spikes. Odd, she pondered, his hair looks similar to a star..

He was fairly tanned, and wearing what she assumed to be the average boy's uniform. Oh, did she mention he was also yelling at the top of his lungs?

"THE GREAT BLACK STAR HAS HONOURED YOU ALL WITH HIS PRESENCE, FILTHY COMMONORS!" He yelled, his voice surprisingly high in contrast with his figure that screamed masculine.

To Maka's surprise and amazement, a girl who looked around her own age began to try to reason with the moron about to fall off the roof. She had long, navy blue hair tied in a simple ponytail that ran all the way down her back and slightly below her hips. She had a pale, round face with large cerulean eyes full of a strange combination of wonder and worry.

"Black Star, please get down from there before someone finds you!" she whispered in a hushed voice, that Maka managed to catch anyway.

So the loud moron's name was Black Star? Weird.

"Ahaha! TSUBAKI, DON'T YOU SEE? THAT IS THE POINT SO EVERYONE CAN FOCUS ON THE GREAT ME!" He yelled in response, even louder than the first, causing both Maka and Tsubaki to flinch.

Maka watched in a mixture of awe and fascination as the other girl – apparently named Tsubaki- attempted to soothe the wild beast. The most amazing part was, it seemed to be working. He hadn't shouted in almost a minute, and looked like he was about to finally get down.

Just as she was about to walk away, and make it into school safely without a scratch on her body, her eyes caught his.

Petrified emerald vs fiery aquamarine.

It was as if he momentarily forgot about the ledge 2 feet in front of him as he stared the new spectator down. One step forward, two steps for- and there he goes.

He let out a surprise squeak as he fell hurtling towards the ground.

Luckily for him, both women were watching the scene, already foreseeing that exact result.

Unfortunately, both women were so focused on the him – he would be happy to know that – that they completely forgot about the other.

This meant that when they both dived in to attempt to catch the 'falling Star', they ended up butting heads, collapsing on the floor before being landed on by a surprisingly heavy, 14 year old.

Maka let out a groan of pain, as her aching limbs-now being sat upon by not one, but two people- screamed in protest. She attempted to shuffle out of the pile, her book bag digging further into her ribs with every move she made.

Her head was ringing when two voices jolted her out of her thoughts as the weight upon her eased.

Slightly.

"DID YOU SEE THAT TSUBAKI! THE GREAT BLACK STAR CAN JUMP OFF ROOVES WITHOUT GETTING INJURED!" he yelled in both girls' ears. Maka and Tsubaki both stood grumbling, while rubbing small circling motions on their foreheads to soothe the rapidly oncoming headache. Tsubaki was the first to react, as she realized exactly what- or who- she had just dived into.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry!" she apologized profusely to the semi-conscious Maka, still struggling to grasp half the words thanks to her throbbing skull. She attempted to collect enough of her scattered thoughts to at least give the poor, guilt stricken girl a piece of mind.

"It's fine, really. It was as much my fault as it was yours." Maka replied, her head bowed in a silent apology. Tsubaki was about to retort, before a strong grip wove its way around her shoulders, along with Maka's.

To Maka's surprise – and horror- Black Star had enclosed them both in a one-armed hug before heading towards the entrance, both girls in tow. Maka was more than confused at what was going on.

"B-Black Star, what are you doing?" Tsubaki questioned in surprise, as she simply allowed the shorter boy to drag her around like luggage. Maka however, was a different story as she struggled from the vice grip hold the boy had around her neck.

"I was just thinking, as my first day of Freshman year, the great me deserves two lady escorts." He proclaimed loudly, as Maka froze at his words.

Did he just say 'lady escorts'?

Oh how she wished she could reach her book bag right now.

"W-what do you mean?" Tsubaki stuttered in reply, walking awkwardly being half pulled, half dragged across the street.

"What I mean is, I need two beautiful ladies to make the lowly freshmen realize the greatness of me." Maka almost growled at his reasoning. Was this guy really a moron? He continued with his rant, oblivious to the growing tick mark on the sandy haired girls forehead." You're fine Tsubaki, but I think I need to find a different number two. This one is cute sure, but she is a bit lacking in the chest department-"

"Maka- CHOP!"

He never even saw second edition, Oxford English Dictionary careening towards his face until it was deeply embedded in his skull.

Maka stormed off towards the main hall, the faint cries of apologies not so faint death threats trailing after her.

* * *

><p>Soul smirked at the completely new, perfect, unstained uniform pants he was holding above his head. After spending almost 10 minutes scrubbing the fabric of his pants – only succeeding to make the stain darker and wider- he decided to simply go buy a new one.<p>

So there they were, 5 minutes later at a designer fashion store with a new pair of pants in tow. Everyone would be none the wiser. They wouldn't know the difference, right? He huffed silently to himself. Of course they wouldn't! How would they? It would all be okay.

He had clean pants and he wasn't la-…

He blinked down at his watch, the numbers 7:50 blinking back at him.

He cursed before ordering the driver to step on it. They reached the main gates of the school in record time, as Soul grabbed his suitcase, before sprinting out of the door and down the road towards the entrance.

He immediately spotted a figure pacing frantically around the front entrance. He looked to be a boy, short black hair and three odd white stripes running across the left side of his hair. He was wearing a variation of his own uniform, and looked absolutely distraught. The boy's yellow golden eyes shone with tears, and Soul was beginning to wonder what had happened to leave him in such a state.

"Uh, excuse me. Is that the hall?" soul asked as politely as he could. He had used manners in _years. _The boy's attention seemed to snap to Soul before he appeared to mull over his thoughts.

"Yeah it is, but you can't enter yet." He replied, his voice somewhat deeper and more masculine that what Soul had expected.

"Why not? I thought orientation started at 7:45?" Soul asked, eyebrow raised at the new predicament he found himself in.

"Father just got it wrong! I'm sure he meant to say it started at 8! Why would he ever choose a number like 7! That's disgustingly asymmetric!" he spat, his pure loathing for the number 7 apparent in his voice and the way his golden eyes appeared almost predator like for a moment when he spoke of it.

Wait a second.

What the hell did he just say?

"If you don't mind, I'll…uh, be heading in now." Soul muttered as he side stepped the boy who had went back to pacing wildly.

Well okay, there was at least one raving lunatic in this place. Perfect.

Soul sighed as he pushed the large doors of the main hall open as every eye in the room was called to the new disturbance.

Liquid emerald met molten crimson.

And the world stopped turning.


	6. Rooming with you

**Author's Note : This chapter was pretty fun to write. I would have posted it earlier but didn't get a chance to. Next chapter should be out soon.**

**Oh, and a side note, it's really nice to see people dropping reviews. Last chapter I had 500 hits and 2 reviews to show for it. Not that I mind and I really thank the two people who did, but for review-whores like myself, they're like… kishin souls for Soul Eater. Hah! I bet your all laughing now!...maybe not. **

**Anyway, if you leave a comment, I'd really appreciate it.**

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><p>He couldn't believe it. He couldn't fucking believe it. He knew those forest green eyes. He also knew how long he spent searching for them, only to find absolutely nothing.<p>

Trying to find a singular person in the entirety of Death city, when you only know their first name, is MUCH more challenging for an eight year old than it sounds, -even one with special privileges- such as searching through police records. In hindsight, he probably could have found her, if he had asked for the help of an adult. Hell, it didn't even have to be an adult. Perhaps if instead of searching through the files of the high class families that lived in the rich part of town, he searched through the slums, he would have found her. And quickly too.

But no. In his childish innocence, once he left the park, he deduced that night that she was trying to make a joke when she said she lived in the dump. Because in his naïve 8 year old mind, he knew that she wasn't trash and therefore couldn't live there. Simple as that. She must have lived in a house like his own, because he had never met anyone who didn't.

Even in the present, he refused to believe that the girl he met that night was not filthy rich, but dirt poor.

This notion was reinforced as they locked eyes, because how would she be at a prestigious academy like Shibusen if she didn't have the money to afford it?

And besides, right now, she looked the same as the others in the hall. The same basic design of uniform with the save silver buttons.

He let a sharky smile scream across his lips as he maneuvered through the throngs of new students, to where she was standing – his eyes never once leaving her own.

She was in denial when he burst into the hall. She recognized that snow white hair, that trademark smirk and those molten crimson eyes. She couldn't grasp that it was _him_ standing in front of her.

After that fateful night, she waited. She didn't have the ability or resources available to search for who this mysterious 'soul' was, so she did the only thing that she could.

Every night when papa disappeared across the darkened street, leaving her to sit on the swing set and drown in the oppressive loneliness, she would tell herself that she wasn't waiting for papa anymore. She was waiting for the mysterious snowy-haired boy , that she knew so much about, yet was only gifted with his first name.

After almost a year of waiting for somebody she had only met once, she realized how pathetic it sounded. To wait for a whole year, for someone they met only once, who never even said they would come back.

Years past and the memory grew fainter, like a candle dimming slowly as the wax melted away, drip by drip.

Eventually, it was so faint, she wasn't sure if it even happened. Was the small boy with the expensive clothes, devilish smirk and cocky attitude a figment of her imagination? Or did he really exist?

For months, she was unsure. But now she knew. The boy – now teenager – was approaching her, the same smirk he wore all those years ago still faintly present on his lips.

It wasn't long before his long confident strides led him over to Maka, who was still paralyzed in wonder.

"It's been awhile..Maka." he spoke, and she was instantly floored by the sound of his voice. It was much deeper now, no trace of his childish innocence left within the relatively low pitch. She smiled, as she realized she wasn't the only one who remembered.

Soul reckoned he may have had about 4 heart attacks, and a brain aneurism or two in the time it took him to walk over.

He had never felt this nervous, especially in front of a girl in his life. He didn't quite understand why his palms were sweaty, his hands were shaking slightly and he could feel heat creeping up his neck in the form of a slowly growing, rosy red blush. SO UNCOOL.

He had to somehow get those damn distracting eyes off of him, before they were the death of him.

_It's been awhile, Maka._

Oh. My. God. How cheesy could he get? This was just pathetic. Soul Eater Evans was not this lame! Come on!

To fuel his anxiety like a bucket of gasoline would a flame, she didn't respond to his words. Could it be that she didn't remember him? That would be _so_ embarrassing. He began to fidget nervously with the hem of his jacket, waiting in anticipation for her response.

"Yeah, it really has." She responded with a smile that made something locked deep inside of him, feel warm and fuzzy. His heart skipped a beat at the strange new sensation.

Not cool Soul! He had to act aloof and nonchalant. He exhaled and with it went his nerves. His eyes slid downwards momentarily. His confidence came back full force as he put his plan to seem less…lame, into action.

Maka was growing impatient, as well as slightly nervous. Was she meant to continue this 'conversation' that consisted of two phrases? Should she wait for him to say something? Would she sound too desperate if she responded again without waiting? Oh, sometimes she _hated_ being a girl.

She watched his eyes flicker downwards for a sec-…

Wait. Flicker downwards? What the hell did he just look at that made his confidence return?

"I see you haven't grown much." He teased lightly, as she pondered over his statement. Grown much? Well, height wise, they were the same so how the hell could he talk about growing?

"You haven't grown much either then…" she responded, a hint of confusion entering her voice.

He almost face palmed.

She didn't get his insult / ice breaker.

To explain it or to leave the awkward silence as is?

Okay, screw nerves he decided.

What's the worst that could happen?

"I meant in the chest department, tinytits." He responded.

Please don't walk away. Please don't walk away. Please don't walk away. He pleaded silently.

She needed to respond in a preferably non-pissy way and not take it as an insult… though it was, he just wanted to conversation to sound less forced and more natural. That wasn't too much to ask righ-

"Maka…CHOP!"

His train of thought was cut off by something big, something heavy and something fast on a collision course with his skull.

And we have impact, ladies and gentlemen.

Soul was surprised he didn't pass out. HOLY SHIT. What in the hell was that? Where did it come from, and who did it?

He peeled his eyes open, only to come face to face with a smirking Maka, holding the second edition of Oxford's English Dictionary, poised and ready to strike. What was more surprising, was there was already dried blood coating the spine, other than his own freshly spilled essence.

Who the hell was her first victim?

"What the fuck was that?" he screeched, clutching his throbbing head now indented with a rectangular shaped hole.

"A Maka chop." She responded with a small smile.

Vengeance.

"I gathered that… Why the hell did you hit me?" he growled, venom lacing his voice. He had never been hit like that…like, EVER.

Where did she even keep that dictionary, anyway?

"Oh, would you rather I start crying and walk away thinking you're an ass?- which I still do by the way." She retorted, smirking at his pained state.

Dammit. Why did she have to have a point?

Wait a minute. She called him an ass!

"At least I'm not some violent, bitch." He snapped, glaring Maka fiercely.

"You sure about that?" she said, in a suggestive tone that made him for the third time in his life, want to hit a girl.

"Shove it, tiny-tits; the principle will be talking to us in a second." He replied with no real hostility. He finally realized what was going on. She wasn't taking him seriously…neither should he. So this was bantering, eh? It was…interesting, to say the least.

"I know, moron."

"Bookworm" He responded, turning towards the front of the large hall, waiting for the principle to show himself.

"How did you even-"she questioned, have no clue how he knew that she was into books.

"The blood-coated dictionary kind of gave it away." He said, watching how one by one the staff of the school began to file in.

She chuckled lightly at his response, leaving the two in a comfortable silence. Somehow, the tension had eased and in its place, a light aura descended upon the two. They were both content with everything in that moment.

But like all good things, the moment had to come to an end. This time, it was destroyed by an applause slowly growing in volume. It wasn't long before Soul and Maka both realized what was going on. The principle must have entered-

…

Was that a screen?

In the centre of the podium, a large cinema size digital screen was being wheeled out by an army of repair men. They began to connect the wires and in no time, the screen was turned on and working properly. The sight that greeted them was not what they expected.

There was a man – they were only able to tell his gender by the size and width of his shoulders - standing alone in the centre of what looked like an open sky. He was wearing a black coat that kicked out randomly giving his body an almost inhuman effect. He was wearing white pristine gloves, and his face was covered completely by the black hood of his jacket, and a white, skull musk. In all, he looked like he could have been a creature from nightmares….

That was until they heard him speak.

"Hello! Hello Wassap!" He practically yelled from the other side. His voice sounded off.. like he was purposely faking a higher pitch for some reason or another.

The whole crowd was in awe, which included Maka and Soul. Who would have thought, _the '_social recluse' of the political world, known simply as Shinigami-sama, would have looked like…that.

"I wonder why no one responded." The man on the screen muttered to himself worriedly, before he began to wave his arms around attempting to gain everyone's attention.

"I'll try this again. HELLO, HELLO WASSAP?" He yelled even louder, causing the majority of the crowd to cringe from the volume of his voice.

"Father, I'm sure they can hear you, you just can't hear them." A new voice entered the fray, somewhat deeper and more masculine. Soul felt a faint tingle of recognition at the new voice, but decided to ignore it in favor of focusing on the new, weird principal.

"Ah, Kid has a point. Okay! So, without verbal conformation, I'll have to just say everything and expect you to take it all in, is that alright?" Shinigami-sama asked, awaiting a response. A faint sound of the flesh of a palm meeting the face of the frustrated Death the Kid echoed throughout the silent hall.

"Father!" He snapped, before Shinigami-sama realized just what he had done.

"Oh, right they can't answer!" he responded cheerily, the eagerness and enthusiasm never leaving his tone.

This guy, was seriously their principal?

Like…honestly?

"Okay, so I don't want to bore anyone, so I'll keep this quick. Have a good day! I think I'll end my speech here." he shouted, before giving the crowd the peace symbol with his fingers, shoving them towards the camera to make it look like his fingers were gigantic.

He was soon pulled out of the camera's view by an incredibly frustrated looking teen. His hair was jet black, but had three odd white stripes on one side. He was wearing a variation of the boy's uniform as well, which made the crowd wonder why he was up there.

"Sorry about father, he can be a little…laid back. I'll give you a basic rundown.

After I finish speaking, you will be assorted into dorm groups. Your group will pretty much determine who you spend time with, as you will be living together, as well as the same classes. In Shibusen, there is no gender discrimination, so mixed genders are entirely possible. Preferably there will be an equal number of each gender in each dorm so that no one could be bothered by the lack of symmetry… but anyway, once you get your dorm, just follow the teacher assigned to that dorm and follow them out of the main hall. Thank you for your attention."

He finished his speech, the whole crowd amazed at his ability to speak confidently and articulate words flawlessly.

The large screen flashed once, before disconnecting leaving it black. The crowd began to murmur in excitement. Maka almost sighed in disappointment. She could already foresee that mixed genders probably wasn't the _best_ idea. Not that she personally had any problem with it, but allowing teenagers to sleep together… Bad wording, bad wording!

She chastised herself as a rosy red blush ran across her cheeks. Okay, *sleep near each other.

That was better.

She was brought back to reality when Soul softly prodded at her side to get her attention, because the names were beginning to be read out. She didn't recognize any of them so far, but paid attention for any name that sounded familiar.

"Hiro, Kim, Ox Ford, Jacqueline, Harvar, Kilik. That is dorm 1, please follow Azusa-sensei out the back door and she will be your Dorm leader from now on."

A woman dressed in a pristine black suit adjusted her glasses and watched with a speculative eye as her new students began to file out. She appeared to be lucky this year, as each of her students didn't seem to be the rowdy sort.

More names were read out, filling the air with a monotone drone from the grey-haired professor. The numbers in the hall had soon dwindled to the last dorm, as he read the name out slowly.

"Black Star" He called out, hearing a yell from the other end of the room.

Maka smirked, as she imagined the poor fool that would have to live with that guy. She may actually feel sorry for whoever-

"Maka"

What?

Oh, shit. She didn't realize that they were basically the only ones left.

She would have to share a dorm with that guy…

"Soul, Tsubaki, Death the Kid, Elizabeth and Patricia." The professor finished, watching in amusement the horrified expressions on some of the remaining students faces. The one with the blue hair was glaring heatedly at the one wearing pigtails, while she looked like she was about to pass out.

Professor Stein clapped loudly, gaining the attention of the remaining students.

"I will be your dorm leader from now on. You will address me as Professor Stein, and you will learn to appreciate the facilities here. Outside to the left is your dorm building, sort out the rooms for yourselves and I'll be there in an hour to check on you. Dismissed." The small group nodded in conformation, before heading out. Soul found himself walking alongside Maka once more as he let a rare genuine smile cross his lips.

"Seems like we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

"Seems so."

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><p>Dull gray eyes focused on the cigarette lighter, igniting the flame before he held his cigarette above to light it. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he inhaled heavily, relishing the small window of relaxation it offered. He glanced down once more at the attendance sheets of the new students in his dorm.<p>

An Albarn and an Evans.

He sighed heavily.

Just his luck.


	7. Just a Pizza Parlor

**Author's Note : You guys are amazing XD Maybe I just have to get on my knees and beg for reviews more often, neh?**

**Anyway, this chapter is fairly long. The actual story is starting about now, so be prepared!...Maybe next chapter.**

**I just wanted to point out that I'm not a great writer and I know that. One of my greatest flaws in writing is inconsistency. Sometimes, I describe irrelevant events in incredible detail, but then miss out the important description on the important parts. This is something I am trying very hard, to get better at. **

**This story will move fairly slowly, as I am not going to dive-bomb into the romance right off the bat. Also, I have finally decided on the plot, and it won't be as lovey-dovey high school romance as I originally thought. Be prepared for some mysteries, action and drama people!**

**As always, it'd be awesome if you leave a review, but if not, that is your choice. Enjoy :P**

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><p>"Yahoo! I am the Great BLACK STAR, and you are all my new servants!" A loud, obnoxious voice echoed loudly throughout the deserted courtyard, the students following behind the blue-haired boy cringing at the sheer volume of his voice. It wasn't long before his comment was actually deciphered from a high-pitched yell, to a coherent sentence in their brains. The snowy-haired boy was first to react, when he realized that was probably that guy's way of introducing himself… wait a minute. He called them servants? The hell?<p>

"Name's Soul." The albino boy snapped irritably, loud enough for the entire group to hear clearly over the sound of their shoes slapping against the concrete. "And I'm not your servant, blueberry." He added, provoking the already overly energetic counterpart.

"B-Blueberry?" Black Star croaked and the new, disgusting and utterly ungodly nickname he was just graced with. "You DARE insult my godliness?" He growled, cracking his knuckled threateningly and stalking towards the smug looking Soul.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Soul replied evenly, smiling slightly as he did so. It took less than a second for Black Star to charge the utterly unprepared Soul to the ground, tackling him to the floor and pinning him down.

"Who's the Blueberry now!" Black Star spat, eyes narrowed tiny slits, his aquamarine eyes glowing in anger, now directly solely at the boy pinned helplessly underneath him.

"Still you, moron. My hair color didn't change.." Soul replied snarkily, regretting his words slightly when the body above his raised a fist threateningly.

"Black star!" A timid voice called, as she tried to pull the enraged boy off of Soul without injuring either party. Tsubaki, try as she might, was nowhere near strong enough to disentangle the two, as they began to actually throw punches at the other. Soon, they were rolling around, yelling, shouting and hitting, when Tsubaki gave up on trying to quell the small ball of violence.

She decided to take Maka's approach, and simply ignore the pair of idiots rolling around on the floor….harder said than done.

" Sorry about him" she apologized meekly to Maka, who arched a single eyebrow at the genuine concern and worry his the other's voice.," he's a little over the top.. " she explained with a slight smile. Maka attempted to guess – and failed to guess- whether the smile was one of admiration, or adoration.

"My name is Tsubaki and it's my pleasure to meet you." She said, holding out a hand wearily as if Maka was about to slap it back. Maka smiled slightly at the girls anxious antics. She knew right there and then, that they would get along just fine.

"Maka Albarn. It's a pleasure to meet you too."

She gave the taller girl a firm handshake, before letting her arm fall to her side.

Grunts of effort, material scraping against concrete, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the occasional curse word filled the silence between the two girls, as they sighed and continued walking towards the dorm that seemed to be getting further and further away as time went on.

"Not so much for him though" Maka added as an afterthought, gesturing towards the dominating blue-haired male, as Tsubaki gave a sheepish smile in reply.

"He's really not that bad when you get to know him." She said, her eyes dazing slightly as that strange glint entered her eyes once more.

"How long have you two known each other?" Maka questioned, genuine curiosity lining her tone. She could tell that they had known each other prior to today, but who exactly were they?

"Ah, we were childhood friends, and have both been at Shibusen since we were young." She answered, her cheery tone falling slightly when she finished the sentence. That was odd.. Maka needed more information to come to a conclusion about Black Star and Tsubaki.

"Really? Wow, you must be a saint to tolerate him for that long" she joked lightly, her words light and airy compared to just how serious she was about them.

"He's just kind of silly" Tsubaki explained, a small but notice blush staining her cheeks." but that's how our relationship is."

"Relationship? You two going out or something" Maka questioned, suddenly much more interested in the small conversation between the two. Tsubaki seemed to choke on air at her question, her cheeks heating up even further as her face now literally reminiscent of a tomato.

"n-no, we aren't…" The taller girl stuttered in reply, as the shorter caught the slightest hint of disappointment in her tone. Maka pondered the possibilities and came to the obvious conclusion. Poor girl, she mused to herself.

Maka supposed it was her duty as a roommate, to get the glint that had suddenly disappeared, back into the dark-haired girl's eyes. Though Maka was new to the whole, 'comfort' thing, she supposed she could give it a go.

"Hey now don't lose hope." She reassured with a small smirk, as Tsubaki realized the girl she had only been talking to for 10 minutes, had already figured out one of her most preciously kept secrets. Was she really that bad at hiding what she felt towards the self proclaimed 'Star'? "I've only known the idiot for an hour but he listens to you.." Maka explained, being entirely honest. It was true!

When she first met the duo, he had actually considered getting down without attracting any more attention, due to the pleas of his childhood friend. Though his feeling for the dark-haired girl may not run that deep, there was definitely _something_ there.

"You think so?" Tsubaki mused to herself, more than the shorter girl. Maka smiled to herself at the cheeriness and perkiness she had already come to expect from the other entering her tone again.

"Yeah. I really do…"

"What about you and Soul?" Tsubaki asked innocently, smiling to herself when it was Maka's turn to choke on her own spit. Her reaction though, seemed to contain more emotion than hers towards Black Star, as the poor, shorter girl seemed to light on fire.

"What about us? We're not going out or anything. The first time I see the ass in ages and he insults my chest. Really, what kind of guy does that?" She fumed, eyebrows crossed and eyes narrowed. Tsubaki grinned. There was obviously something there. Not neccicarily a romantic connection, but she saw the two interact earlier, and the level of comfort and ease between them led Tsubaki to believe that they also may know each other.

"So you two know each other?"

"Not really I suppose." Maka mused. "We met once when we were kids." She offered a very brief explanation, not daring to mention that her meeting with Soul, probably changed her life. For the better too.

"Wow, I'm surprised that you would remember that far back if you were only a kid.." Tsubaki offered. Maka silently agreed with the statement. She didn't remember any other childhood friends, was it because she never had any, or because they just weren't that memorable? She wasn't entirely sure.

"I suppose. In a way, it was a kind of unforgettable meeting." Maka finished with a small, barely noticeable twinkle in her emerald eyes.

"I'm sure." Tsubaki affirmed, her attention distracted by two forms, approaching them quickly from the left.

They were blurry at this distance, but from her point of view, they both looked like girls. One was shorter and stockier, while the other was more lanky. It wasn't long before they're faces were revealed, to show to pairs of gleaming blue eyes, and a pair of matching smirks.

"Yo, I'm Liz and this is Patty. Seems we're going to be sharing a dorm this year." The taller one – Liz- introduced. The shorter – Patty – laughed hysterically as if her companion had said something hilarious.

"I'm Tsubaki, and this is Maka. It's nice to meet you." Tsubaki introduced, shaking each girl's hand in turn, before Maka followed and did the same.

The group began to trudge forwards, still ignoring the shouts coming from the pair of still brawling boys.

"Kid said he would join us for dinner later." Liz said abruptly after almost a minute of silence. Maka realized that Kid must have been the guy who gave the orientation speech today.

"You know the principal's son?" Maka asked in a mixture of awe and respect.

"Yeah, sorta." Liz answered uneasily, obviously slightly uncomfortable discussing their private life with people she considered strangers. Maka realized this quickly, and bowed her head in apology, before bring up a trivial subject that got all 4 girls talking animatedly.

They reached the front entrance to their shared dorm soon after, a bloodied and beaten Soul, and Black Star dragging their feet behind them. The idiots had somehow, became friends – or comrades with a small portion of respect for one another – in the time it took them to walk back to the dorm. They grinned and high-five each other as they entered the dorm, as Maka was left pondering over what just happened.

Did boys always resolve differences with their fists, not their words?

As soon as Maka stepped inside the door, she was floored. Never before had she seen such a high quality room in her life. It was _huge_. Like, the combined sizes of her apartment, and the 4 below it would all fit neatly into the _lounge._ How is that even possible?

Maka made a bee line for the furthest door on the right, seeing as everyone else seemed to have already chosen their room. What the hell? Even the _doors_ looked like the cost a fortune! Just how rich _was_ Shibusen?

She dropped her bag on her king sized bed, unclipping it then taking the task upon herself to place every book she owned / borrowed and had yet to return on the shelves, before falling backwards into the bed, spent. She needed just a short nap. Just a short nap and she'd be fine..

Soul had immediately wanted the bedroom on the far right, but his exhausted body, aching limbs and scratchy voice prevented him from stopping Maka from literally swooping in and taking it from him. He settled for the door next to hers, as he dragged himself over to his new room. He was ever so slightly disappointed to find it wasn't quite as big as his old bedroom, nor did it have a private piano, but it would have to do. Besides, he could fix either problems whenever he could be bothered, so he supposed it wasn't really much of a problem. Ripping open his poorly packet bags, he began to stuff them into the cupboard in the side of his room. He soon realized – with a good amount of horror- that he had somehow forgone packing any kind of trousers, other than the ones he was currently wearing. He sighed in dismay. This was not good.

* * *

><p>Maka rolled over, grumbling as she began to wake up to a chorus of screaming, crashing and…was that sobbing?<br>She hobbled out of her room, still her mind still in a pleasant sleepy haze, to come face to face with what looked like an explosion. Her whole dorm was present and watching her, while she tried – but failed- to work out what was going on. There were small blocks of wood scattered across the floor, the table was turned over, Soul had a fresh bruise on his face, Blackstar was standing on the countertop, and who she guessed was Kid was on the floor sobbing. What the hell?

"W-wha?" was all she could get out before she was tackled to the floor, by a currently un-sobbing- but terrifyingly furious looking Death the Kid.

What the hell was going on?

What was the safe word again?

He reached across her face, leaning towards her hair before he began to fiddle with her left pig-tail. If her mind wasn't frozen, and in turn her body, she could have kneed him where the light don't shine. Suddenly, he disappeared from his position on top of her and was standing up, admiring his work with sparkly eyes, glowing in accomplishment. What the fuck just happened?

"It's perfect!" He declared, while Liz face palmed, Patty laughed, Tsubaki turned away, Blackstar glared for the attention stealing, and Soul simply smirked.

"W-what the hell just happened?" Maka snapped, her brain slightly more awake now after being pounced on.

"You don't need to worry, you're perfectly symmetrical now. No need to fear." He replied evenly, pride practically oozing out of his voice.

"What did I miss?" She questioned once more, hoping to get an answer from someone who didn't seem to be clinically insane. At this point Tsubaki seemed to be the best candidate for the whole explanation thing, as the rest returned to what they were doing before.

"Well, professor arrived a little after lunch." Tsubaki explained, as Maka's was instantly shocked. She slept that long?

"No one woke me?" She questioned, absolutely mortified that on her very first day, her dorm leader may already see her as incompetent. Because really, who sleeps in the middle of the day for no reason?

"I asked Soul to get you up, but he just shivered and said 'I prefer my cranium in one piece, thank you very much'. So, the professor pretty much answered all of our questions, and explained our timetables." Tsubaki explained, a comforting arm on Maka's shoulder.

"Wait, wait, wait. I missed out on all of this?" Maka asked worriedly. This wasn't good.

"Sorry, Maka-chan. He also said that there was no dinner tonight, so each dorm was just going to order out. " Tsubaki finished, taking her hand away from the other's shoulder and letting it sit in her lap.

"What about the mess?" Maka asked after a minute of silence, the magnitude of the mess only just beginning to sink in.

"Ah..about that. We tried to play a game of Jenga see, but Kid-kun insisted that it had to be symmetrical. Eventually, a fight broke out between Kid-kun and Blackstar, because Kid-kun insulted Blackstar's godliness, while he destroyed Kid-kun's 'symmetry'." Tsubaki explained, quoting both boys, as Maka watched transfixed as her black-haired counterpart unconsciously scrunched up her face when she tried to remember their exact words.

"I think we should get pizza guys" Liz declared loudly, from her position on the couch. Patty sat next to her, laughed as Kid began to clean up the room with renewed haste after seeing how 'unsymmetrical' it had become.

"Pizza, Pizza!" Patty began to chant, after hearing her sister's idea.

"Who wants to make the call?" Liz called, knowing that if she did it herself, Kid would probably pass out because of something she ordered and its lack of symmetry.

"I will, because someone else may accidently order something disgusting like half a pizza being one topping, and a different topping for the other half. No one would eat that asymmetrical garbage." He spat, as he pulled out the hefty looking phonebook from one of the draws.

"No way the great BLACK STAR will order the sustenance for his minions. " Blackstar shouted from the other side of the room, charging towards Kid with a wild expression.

"Just both do it and stop fighting" Maka mumbled, her hand creeping steadily towards the thick phonebook on the table. She smirked. Ammunition…perfect.

Kid began to sort through the phonebook, soon finding the closest pizza delivery service within the vicinity of the school. Blackstar hung over his right shoulder, peering down at the minuscule ink text that he couldn't quite read.

"Exc- Xc-cal-ibu" he attempted to say the name, stuttering multiple times through his sentence.

"Excalibur's Pizza Parlor." Kid answered, as he dialed in the numbers and the phone began to ring.

"_Hello, I'm Hiro and I'm here to take your orde-" a cheery voice answered from the other end, the sound of crashing soon interrupting it._

"_FOOL. That greeting was not nearly enthusiastic enough. Give the device here." A deeper voice commanded, as only shuffling was heard through the line._

Blackstar cleared his throat, and began to order.

"Uh, hello? I just wanted to order some pizz-

"_Then allow me to ask, who are you sounding like that?" the voice interrupted again. _Blackstar felt a blood vessel in his forehead tick with annoyance.

"Me? I'm Black-

"_My Pizza Parlor's legend began in the 12__th__ century. You sound like students. Where are you from?_

"Quit shouting at me. It's annoying." Blackstar snapped. His jaw was tight and his hand was clenched so hard he heard the phone crack if that was even possible.

"We're from Shibusen-" Kid tried to explain, before being interrupted once more.

"_Oh, right. Let me tell you something good_."

"…He's not listening even though he asked?" Blackstar muttered furiously, his annoyance growing rapidly at whoever the hell was on the other end.

"What do you want to tell us?" Kid asked evenly, his voice not betraying the frustration he felt.

"_Do you know of my legend?"_

"Quit with the shouting-" Blackstar snarled before being interrupted…again.

"_Do you want to hear of my brave exploits!"_

"Stop shouting at me, you little shit.." he snapped, his left eye twitching dangerously.

"_Where did you come from?_

"We already told you. From Shibusen-" Kid tried to answer before being cut off.

"_From 1 to 12. Order any amount of pizzas you like."_

"From 1 to 12?" Blackstar asked a hint of confusion entering his tone. Weren't they supposed to freakin' ORDER, then they just DELIVER!

"8 its 8. Because of the symmetry." Kid answered, a little too quickly.

"_FOOLS. You have no right to choose! My Pizza Parlor's Legend began in the 12__th__ century!"_

"Didn't you just tell us to pick the amount of pizzas we wanted-" Blackstar spat, the other's in the room slowly slinking away from Blackstar and Kid.

"_Do you know of my Pizza Parlor's legend?"_

"Would you quit with the shouting…"

"_My Pizza Parlors legend began in the 12 century. In the mornings, I began with selling a cup of coffee. I sold a cup of tea in the afternoons. Any my evenings-" for the first time in the entire conversation, Blackstar was the one to interrupt the voice on the other end._

"Alcohol, right?"Blackstar snapped. "Fitting for a frustrating son of a bitch like yo-"

"_FOOLS. I put on my pyjamas, duh!" the man on the other end replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world._

"THAT'S TOTALLY UNRELATED!" Blackstar screeched in fury, grabbing hold of his hair and tugging at it furiously in an attempt to relieve the burning anger growing with every word.

"That has nothing to do with any legend." Kid conceded with Blackstar, his own voice slowly rising as he was unable to keep it completely calm and collected. "And pajamas in the evening-"

"_FOOLS. Do you know about this hat?"_

"…huh?" both Blackstar and Kid replied in unison.

"_I'm asking you if you know about this hat." Snapped the voice._

"WE CAN'T EVEN SEE YOU, YOU STUPID MORO-"

"_Fools! Since you don't know, I'll inform you, the taller the chef's hat, the better!"_

Kid's left eye twitched dangerously.

"…So in other words, you think you're bette-"

"_Fools! Who said anything about chefs?"_

"You're not making any sense at all…" Blackstar growled, his patience that was little to begin with, was running incredibly low.

"_This is exactly why I dislike country bumpkins"_

"SCREW THIS. ITS NOT WORTH IT!" Blackstar screamed, ditching the phone to the floor with all his remaining strength, watching in satisfaction as it shattered upon the impact.

Soul ducked out of his room when he heard the noise, spotting Blackstar and Kid with relieved expressions on their faces.

"Hey Blackstar, Kid, have you ordered the pizza yet?" he questioned lazily. Soul didn't see the large phone receiver hurtling towards his face until it made contact with his skull. It managed to knock him back, over and down onto the floor as he spluttered in a mixture of surprise and pain.

"What are you now? Maka?" he growled, wondering what the hell put the blue haired boy in such a bad mood.

"..Too…damn…annoying." was all Blackstar muttered, as he stomped back to his room, puffing angrily and slamming the door shut behind him.

"Hey, Kid, what was that all abou-" Soul turned to Kid, only to see him walking tiredly towards his own room, a haggard expression drifting across his face.

"I'm going to bed…" he whispered, disappearing off into his own room, closing the door behind him.

"Was it something I said?"


	8. Denial

**Author's Note: Wow, this one is over 8 pages. Anyway, everyone, say 'hello plot!'. **

**It starts to get interesting! I bet all of you are thinking 'finally!'.**

**So, this would have been out earlier, had I not been distracted by the lovely graphics tablet I now own. Man, I just get sidetracked so easily nowadays**

** I'd appreciate it if you left a comment, but if not, that's fine too.**

**Edit - ARGH, sorry for the re upload, but I messed up majorly. The last sentence of this chapter made perfect sense in my mind, but now rereading it, it may not make any sense to anyone else.  
><strong>

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><p><em>Now I lay me down to sleep<br>I pray the lord my soul to keep,  
>If I should die before I wake,<br>I pray the lord my soul to take._

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><p>Soul gnashed his teeth together furiously attempting to ignore everything outside of his personal space, as another ear-piercing metallic screech of metal dragging on marble echoed throughout the room. He reached out blindly with his left hand, fingers crawling along the blankets marching in search of a pillow. It didn't take him long to feel the soft object, as he quickly and efficiently grabbed it and pulled it over his head.<p>

SCREECH.

He held the pillow closer over his ears, hoping that the harder he pressed, the less he would hear. It didn't work.

SCREEC-

"GOD DAMMIT KID, STOP REARRANGING THE FURNITURE!" Soul screamed in frustration, hearing the clanking and grating sounds outside cease momentarily.

He gulped in worry as the sound of multiple doors swinging open, -no doubly with scowling faces from being woken from his previous yell - and the sound of tense, tiered voices grumbling to Kid. Soul sighed in reassignment, removing the pillow from his face as he began to pull on his uniform.

Screw it.

Sleeping in wasn't worth it when he could leave his room and join the 'beat the shit out of Kid' game. Serves the prick right. Who in their right minds rearranges furniture anyway? This wasn't even their property!...oh wait, he supposed it was partially Kid's.

As soon as his bare feet touched the ice-cold marble of the floor, he regretted his decision of getting up. Man it was freezing in here!

Did someone forget to turn on the heater or something last night? He really didn't remember much after being slammed in the face with a phone receiver….damn Blackstar. Soul would repay him for that.

Soul swung open his door with little effort, as he came face to face with one of the most peculiar scenes he had ever seen in his life.

Before him, stood all his dorm mates- except Maka strangely-, disheveled and looking a combination of pissed off, tiered, strangely energetic (Patti), and concerned (Tsubaki).

Blackstar was literally growling in the opposite direction, as Soul quickly spotted exactly what- or should he say who- he was snarling at. In the corner of the room, sat the crumpled form of Death the Kid. Soul could hear the sobs bouncing off the walls, as the wails of the principles son's met his ears without receiving an inch of sympathy.

"What exactly happened here?" Soul questioned, as Tsubaki spared him an anxious glance.

"Blackstar came out saying his Godly sleep was being disturbed by a commoner as Kid was trying to pull the couch across the floor. I'm not really sure how it happened, but they got into a verbal spat of sorts, and when Kid insulted Blackstar's height, Blackstar said something about kid being asymmetric….He's been in the corner moping ever since." Tsubaki explained delicately, watching the scene as if she were a mother, watching over a child who had just scraped their knee.

Soul watched in an odd mix of fascination and amusement as both Liz and Patty tried to comfort the asymmetric boy- still sobbing calling himself worthless trash. Though this scene would have been weird for many, Soul could already foresee this kind of thing would be the norm from now on.

"So not cool.." he muttered to himself, glancing around the room. Even though everything seemed to be where it should be, and nothing was out of place, he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. He felt like something was missing from the strangely sereneic fight, and it was then it occurred to him. Like a lightning bolt, he realized in an instant, it wasn't something missing. It was someone.

Surely she couldn't have slept through all that? He wondered to himself, as he began to slink off away from the new fight erupting behind him.

Stepping on his tippy-toes, he inched closer to Maka's room, eying the closed door with a critical eye. Well, if he barged in and she was simply asleep with nothing wrong, it would be embarrassing as hell as well as totally uncool. But what if something was wrong? What if she got incredibly sick the night before and was dying in there? What if someone had broken in at night and she had been kidnapped? What if she had tried to take a shower, slipped then cracked her head on the glass? What if she had died of starvation because of the lack of dinner they had the night before? What if, what if what if…

He had no idea where these ridiculous ideas and notions came from, nor did he know why when each new one entered his head, his reluctance to enter shriveled and withered away. What the hell was one or two Maka-chops compared to her life?

Something could be wrong in there, and unsurprisingly, that didn't sit well with him.

Creaking the door open a fraction he peered inside the large room to find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. He could tell from first glance that she was a neat freak. Not a single article of clothing, or belonging was on the floor, the shelves were already lined with her books, and her suitcase wasn't in sight. Pale streams of sunlight filtered through the blinds, semi-lighting the room and giving him a perfect view of her sleeping form.

At first it seemed like nothing was wrong.

She was huddled in the thick blankets, each clutched tightly to her chest. He watched in awe as the sunlight appeared to shine off her face, almost making it glow. He then realized, with a good amount of worry, that it was because of the cold sweat beading her brow and drenching her face. The sunlight reflected off the miniscule droplets drawing attention to the sheer amount she was sweating. Her face was twisted into a look that held pure pain. Her lips were thin end pulled together in a tight grimace as her eyes didn't merely look closed like they're meant to when one is asleep, but instead, they looked as if they had been screwed together.

Without realizing what he was doing, he slowly drifted towards her, his footsteps making no noise on the soft carpet floor.

The closer he grew, the more his concern towards her grew. Her hands were shaking in the death grip she had locked her covers in, and the more carefully he looked, the more he noticed how her whole body seemed to tremble.

Just what the hell was she dreaming about?

"No, please..." She muttered, eyes still closed as the trembling began to grow worse. He approached her worriedly eyebrows furrowed in thought. Should he wake her up? Should he just wait and see?

"Mama..." She whimpered, in a voice he had only ever heard from the girl once – when they cried together all those years ago. She sounded absolutely distraught. So she was dreaming about her mother?

"Don't…don't go.." she muttered against the pillow, her words barely audible and muffled but he caught it. He knew he shouldn't be in here like this. But he couldn't help it. She was hurting, he could see that as clear as day. He just didn't know what to do.

"Don't die and leave me!" she said this time louder and her voice sounding desperate. He wanted so badly to close the gap between them and pull her into a hug.

He was close to her now.

Within reaching distance.

Glancing at her face, wide emerald snapped open only to come face to face with crimson that looked like a deer caught in headlights.

She let out a frightened yelp, sitting up on reflex, which ended up in her giving him a lovely 'good morning head butt'.

He groaned in pain as the world began to focus once more as what he next saw, would be burned into his mind and subconscious not matter how hard he tried to scrub it away.

His face instantly lit up like a fire, a rosy red blush staining his cheeks and now matter how much he denied it later on – a small drop of blood trickled from his nose.

Before him, sat a helplessly confused Maka, blinking in confusion and staring at him as if he had grown a second head, all the while not realizing that she wasn't particularly….clothed in the upper region of her body.

He presumed his jaw had fallen off a while ago, as now he tried – and failed miserably – to recollect at least a singular thought that did not involve him ridding her of the singular pesky garment that was obscuring his view of her totally naked upper half.

He had to escape this, dignity, sanity and virginity all intact.

He stood up stiffly, turning around and storming out of the room as quickly as possible. Yes that's right, of all his thoughts and planning of what to do; he came up with only one good answer.

RUN.

"I guess your tits aren't so tiny after all.." he muttered, slamming the door shut as quickly as possible, hearing the THUD of no doubtedly a thick text book crashing into the door a second later.

* * *

><p>Maka was frozen. Body and mind. She remembered feeling hot in the thick blankets of her new bed, so she took off her shirt at the time, leaving her to sleep comfortably in her sweatpants and bra. She didn't however, remember that fact when she woke up this morning, only to come eye to eye with the peculiar shade of crimson belonging to the one and only, Soul Eater. At the time, her foggy mind couldn't piece together why his eyes seemed to trail downwards, his cheeks reddened as she swore she saw a trickle of blood flow out of his nose. It wasn't until he had slammed the door and commented at the size of her chest when the pieces began to fall into place.<p>

She had only just reunited with the arrogant jerk, and he had already, got underneath her skin, reignited the fire in her eyes…oh, and see her partially if not more or less topless.

Just perfect.

She pulled on her uniform neatly and with precision. While doing so, she told her self – more like chanted to herself- that absolutely nothing would change between them.

He was still the cocky, arrogant jerk, and she was still the loudmouth, violent bookworm. Soul and Maka. They weren't any different than they were last night.

She swung open the door, her confidence returning.

She was Maka Albarn, and this was her first day of school. Nothing, and she meant _nothing_- not even loud blue-haired idiots, symmetry crazed dorm mates, or cocky, white-haired jerks- would stop her.

* * *

><p>They walked in a herd. Yes herd. Not group – that was far too spread out, not intricately woven together like a herd. Not like a pack, because not one of them had any predatory aura around them. A herd.<p>

Blackstar was laughing loudly and obnoxiously about something, walking alongside Soul who was in turn, smirking or letting out the occasional snicker himself. Behind them the Thompson sisters were being forced to walk alongside Kid, at his insistence. He wouldn't leave the apartment otherwise, stating that his symmetry would be off unless they walked perfectly in line with him.

That left Tsubaki and Maka to chat behind the rest.

So far, Maka had pieced together that Tsubaki had an older brother, rich and kind parents and she was originally from Japan. She had been attending one of the top class schools in Japan, before being forced to relocate to Death City. Maka had also worked out that his information meant Blackstar had lived in Japan too for some time. The two had been childhood friends. That Maka was sure of. Though she wasn't too knowledgeable about the circumstances in which the two met, she could say for sure that her newly gained friend remembered the experience with a prideful look.

In turn, Tsubaki had learned that Maka's last name was Albarn.

Kid would be outraged at how uneven that was.

It wasn't because Tsubaki talked too much for Maka to squeeze an answer in, or Maka talked so little it was hard to extract an answer from her. No, it was simply because there really were no answers, that didn't begin with 'not' and end with 'sure'.

They soon found themselves standing outside of their very first class of the year.

Their time tables all read '_F . Stein- room 304 8:00am_ – _Science'_ so they entered the room as quietly and discreetly as possible.

Well, all except for Blackstar, who charged through the door gaining the attention of the entire class.

"I AM THE GREAT BLACK ST-" he began, before it was Tsubaki who grabbed him by the collar, dragging him away to a seat, him shouting all the while.

The class soon turned to whatever they were doing previously to the interruption, which was either leaning over desks to chat with one another, doodling on paper or texting. Maka concluded the teacher obviously wasn't here yet.

It wasn't long before a slow, low grating sound entered the classroom from the other side of the door. It was slowly gaining strength and volume, until something crashing into the door, flipping over multiple times and sliding across the front of the room. The same man from the orientation, sat upside-down in his chair, gray hair splayed across the floor; cigarette hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth. He smirked at his horrified looking class before he pulled out the roll book, not bothering to flip back over and started class.

* * *

><p>4 hours and 9 dissections later, Maka was out of the classroom as fast as possible. She never wanted to look at a frog again in her life. Ever. The majority of the small dorm group felt the same, all except for an excited blue-haired boy who continued to rant about how the frogs' guts looked vaguely like noodles. Needless to say, after his comment, no one was particularly hungry for lunch.<p>

The relatively small group sat outside on the grass, the midday sun shining down as they stared miserably at their lunches – none of which were going to get eaten – except of course, Blackstar who had already devoured both his own and Tsubaki's. Maka glared at the boy, the loud echoing sounds of him smacking his chops grating her ears.

"Could you keep it down, blueberry?" she hissed between gritted teeth, still looking slightly pale from the dissection 'lessons'. Soul couldn't help but smirk at the chosen nickname he used the day before, watching as it lit the fire in Blackstar's eyes.

"Why don't you keep it down, pigtails? You're being louder than I am." He replied chewing extra loudly as he grinned as the tick mark on Maka's forehead grew.

"Who wears pigtails in this day and age?" He continued ignoring the dangerous glare Maka was sending his way. "I mean really. Why would you want to look 10, when you barely look 12 as it is?" He said, gesturing downwards slightly to indicate her chest.

She flushed angrily, and to almost everyone's surprise, Soul's own face was stained with a blush as well.

"What the hell is with you people and breast size? I'm only 14 you know." She spat, eyes narrowed into slits forming a fierce glare.

"I'm sorry about him Maka" Tsubaki apologized, wearily noticing the tension between her childhood friend and her newly found, best female friend. "I like your pig-tails. They're cute." She added with a calm smile, shocking Maka out of her glaring match with Blackstar.

She smiled with a small amount of pride at the complement as her temper simmered down.

"Thanks. Mama used to say she loved it when I wore them." She added, a smile of adoration crossing her features.

Weird. Soul pondered. Didn't she have a nightmare about her mother this morning?

Tsubaki seemed to notice Maka's obvious affection, and had already decided her mother was an amazing person, simply for being able to make her smile like that.

"What is she like?" Tsubaki asked with a smile. Maka's grinned wider in response, her features lighting up in something that faintly resembled reminiscence.

"She was awesome. She could kick anybody's ass without even trying!" She explained, her excitement clearly audible in her words. Tsubaki sweat dropped slightly at the explanation. _Kick anybody's ass_?

"She was strong too…like a grizzly bear. But also, she was loving and kind.." Maka finished with a smile so angelic crossing her features; Tsubaki couldn't help but smile in return. Maka's mother seemed like an amazing woman.

"Where is she now?" Tsubaki questioned curiously, the whole group listening, wondering where this mysterious woman who made such a huge impact on Maka's life was.

Soul caught it first. It was there for less than a second, but he caught it anyway. A tiny glint reflected momentarily off her eye, as her they hardened before returning to their original state once more. A small smile crossed Maka's features as she spoke as if discussing the weather. Her words and her expression/ tone were worlds apart. She spoke as if she was content with the gravity of her words, as if it didn't even matter.

She spoke as if she was truly and utterly okay.

And if he hadn't caught that momentary flash, he just might have believed it.

* * *

><p><em>"She's dead."<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yet another Author's Note; I have to clear this up. At the end here, Soul is thinking about not believing that she was okay, not about the fact that she was dead. So yeah, I hope I cleared that up.<strong>  
><em>


	9. Stuck on the first stage

**Author's Note : This would have been out on Saturday, had I not been sidetracked by drawing. **

**Anyway, this chapter was originally longer, but I've split it into two parts. **

**Ooh, and here's a link to the Soul I just drew while writing this. **

**http: / gone-phishing . deviantart . com/art/Soul-Eater-Smirk-259155624**

**Just remove the spaces and check it out XD**

**Please review and let me know what you think.**

**I do not own Soul Eater in any way.**

* * *

><p><em>There are 5 stages to grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Somehow, I think I'm stuck on the first one.<em>

* * *

><p>The whole group seemed to freeze as the softly spoken words drifted through the air. Tsubaki's eyes widened to bug-like proportions in a combination of shock and quilt. Blackstar was the only one who continued to eat, undisturbed by Maka's calm admission.<p>

"Oh my gosh" Tsubaki began, her arms waving frantically around as if she had just committed an unspeakable crime. "I'm so sorry Ma-"

"How'd she die?" Blackstar asked curiously, still taking monstrous bites from his lunch, not even bothering to look up. Tsubaki's eyes widened further (if that was possible) at his rude, insensitive question, as she prepared to scold him.

"Murdered, I spose." Maka replied evenly, her tone unwavering. Soul continued to study her carefully. He had never personally lost anyone close to him, but he was sure that when you talked about a dead relative – especially a mother that you appeared to adore at that – you were meant to speak with emotion. Her words were like rubbing salt into a wound.

They just didn't sound right.

You weren't meant to sound so…okay, when speaking about something like this.

Blackstar grinned at the statement, his eyes lighting up lightly as he took stole another bite.

"That's a pretty god-like way to die." Blackstar said, finally bothering to glance back up at the dirty-blonde haired girl. She cracked a smile at his antics. She supposed it was a fairly god-like way to die.

The rest of the group were in awe of the two's conversation, and how he seemed to tread over her feelings, and she seemed to just shrug it off.

Consideration?

Blackstar didn't even know the _meaning_ of the word.

"D'ya have a dad then?" Blackstar questioned, finally finishing his meal glancing at her discreetly while trying to lick the remnants of his lunch from around his mouth and off his fingers. It was then the group witnessed some kind of emotional reaction towards the Blackstar's insensitive words. She scrunched up her face, her lips curling into something akin to disgust. She let out a small puff of air with a pout, a defiant look sitting upon her lips. Blackstar mentally congratulated himself for getting her to show at least a little emotion.

"What's this, a game of 20 questions?" She snapped, successfully dodging the question.

"He dead too then?" he continued mindlessly, noticing how she seemed to get riled up by the simple mention of her father.

"I wish." She muttered under her breath, but the whole group caught it. Blackstar arched a singular eyebrow at her statement. Tsubaki, ever the peace-maker moved to intervene in the terse conversation, seeing as Maka looked oddly like a bomb that had just had its fuse lit.

"What about you then?" Maka questioned, the anger draining from her own face as Blackstar turned to her in surprise. He supposed he should have seen it coming. Interrogate the interrogator, ey?

"Both're buried over that hill." He replied, his voice sounding strangely enthusiastic compared the actual topic he was discussing.

"How'd they die?" Maka repeated his words from earlier, a smirk spreading on her lips.

"Murdered, I spose." He said, using the exact same words as she did before hand. Somehow, only those two could repeat words from such a fucked up conversation, grinning like idiots the whole time.

Soul felt an odd rumbling emerge in the very depths of his gut. It felt sort of like hunger, but instead of a craving to eat, he had a craving to push Blackstar away from Maka and initiate some kind of conversation between her and himself. It was a weird sensation, and it made him shiver delicately. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered the word Jealousy, but he refused to believe it.

Why would he be jealous if the two morons can tread on one another's feeling without the slightest remorse or guilt?

Why would he feel jealous if the two could discuss such intimate and deep issues with each other without being uncomfortable?

Why….why was he jealous?

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed relatively quickly for Soul. So far he had discovered; Marie-sensei was too nice for her own good and allowed him and Blackstar to go for a 'toilet break' that lasted over 2 hours, Azusa-sensei was terrifying, even more so when she directed her attention towards you- regardless of whether she was scalding you or congratulating you- and that Stein was simply insane. Sid was probably the most 'normal' teacher they had, and he still had his own odd little habits. Soul quickly discovered that the only way to combat the '<em>weirdness'<em> of school, was to sleep through the lessons. Though that in itself, was more difficult than he had originally thought to achieve.

At home, lessons went as long as he said they did. He paid them, they worked for him. For some reason, at school it seemed to work the other way. Even though he was paying, it was like he was the one working for them. It made no sense really, but he chose to ignore the conundrum in favor for catching some shut-eye during class.

Stein's was easy to sleep through, as he just ignored those who didn't pay attention, claiming they would be the ones with the horrible test results. Sid was more difficult, but still relatively simple. All he had to do was have a pen in hand before drifting off and the guy wouldn't notice. Marie-sensei's class was pathetically easy to ditch. All he had to do was ask to be excused, and then nap in the hallway.

He didn't even _try_ to skip Azusa-sensei's class. She looked like she had a 20ft pole stuck up her ass, and a spare ready to saudomize the next person who stepped out of line. He personally wasn't really in favor of something like that happening to him, so he –tried to- pay attention to the lectures and rants.

He had also discovered that Maka wasn't just a bookworm. She was redefining the word 'ultimate nerd'. She carried around 30 pounds of thick textbooks, waiting till your next slightly rude / and or offensive comment then proceeded to crack open your skull with the gentleness of a jackhammer. She paid attention, diligently taking notes through every- and I repeat every- class, including Stein's when he was showing the class how to remove the heart of the poor frog through its gullet. While most of the class had thrown up, she only looked pale while still writing down notes. At first, he thought it plain weird. That was until she told him she had written an extra set for him, because she saw him slacking off (sleeping) and didn't want him to fail. He shrugged off her genuine kindness with a half-assed, 'thanks' under his breath when she was already out the door.

In the beginning, he kind of made the assumption she would also be one of the teacher's pets he had heard about from Blackstar the night before. Boy was he proven wrong. Because of her inquisitive nature, combined with the fact that she needed at least a little proof to believe something, the flurry of questions that reigned down upon the teacher when she found something slightly unbelievable managed to frustrate them to no end. Well, all except Marie and Stein who both seemed to enjoy answering her questions, obviously seeing that she was the only one paying enough attention to see through the simple statements they gave out to the class.

In all, for Soul it was a pretty relaxing and slow day (not counting the conversation at lunch), especially considering how he managed to sleep for the majority of it.

So how did it end up like this again? Oh that's right, after getting take-away, (not pizza, Blackstar and Kid almost broke down into a fit of sobs at the suggestion) they decided to watch some of the old movies already in the dorm.

So that was why, a mere 2 hours later, he was the only one awake, hot and uncomfortable.

Soul gazed silently across the room and the blinking lights of the 64 inch, plasma TV currently playing an old western movie. Sounds of gunshots echoed through the apartment, though he was the only one who flinched slightly, seeing as the rest of his dorm were draped over the couches and each other, drooling, snuggling and fast asleep. He stiffened slightly, as Maka shifted her head slightly, mumbling something that he didn't quite catch as it was muffled by his jeans. Yes, that's right. His JEANS. The best place to fall asleep was definitely in your male friend's lap who happened to also see you in a partial state of undress a mere 10 hours earlier.

He shifted awkwardly, trying to gently remove her head from his lap for two reasons. First, was he didn't want to get Maka chopped when she woke up, Second, he didn't want to be Maka-chopped _again _for maybe being a tiiiinsy bit aroused, seeing as every time she shifted her head, her cheek rubbed against his lap and he had to fight tooth and nail for blood to rush north to his cheeks, and not south. Come on Soul! Think of…prunes! Old men! Blackstar dancing!….suddenly he was all better. Soul shifted uncomfortably once more, trying extracting her from his lap.

Because this whole mess was her fault, really.

Though it seemed fate was laughing at his currently predicament, so every time he attempted to push her away, she clung on tighter, burying her face more deeply into his lap.

This was _so_ not good.

* * *

><p>Maka shuddered as a plethora of images ran through her mind.<p>

She hated this dream.

She absolutely loathed it and wanted to wake up, to escape it. To escape the memories and feelings it surfaced. She supposed it was her own fault for answering everyone's questions at lunch. Of course, if she talked about it, the horrible nightmares would return once more. It always started out the same way. She was shouting… shouting at her mother. Her mother was shouting back. Both mother looked so frustrated, so angry and in so much pain… There was a singular slap… the miniature her ran out of the tiny room, tears in her eyes and the words 'I hate you' slipping off her tongue.

_It's just a dream._ Maka chanted to herself. It's a dream…A lie. It never happened. Ignore it. She felt something tugging on her shoulder but only wrapped her arms around her petit frame, trying to quell the growing shudders running through her body.

Maka watched the smaller version of herself totter through the door a day later, bloody, bruised and beaten. She watched as she whimpered and ran through the room, snuggling under the blankets with her mother – her only source of comfort in the black, black world.

She…she was only a child. It was dark too. She couldn't _see_ how her mother's eyes remained open, how her mouth was wide and she was coated in a layer of crimson. At the time, she didn't know why her mother smelt so rancid and felt so cold.

Maka couldn't help but stare at the younger version of herself hug the deceased corpse of her mother, fruitlessly trying to warm it up.

"Mama, what's wrong? Why are you so cold?"

_No…stop it._

"Mama..? Say something Mama?"

_Stop it! Stop it!_

"Please wake up Mama! You're scaring me!"

Screaming filled the air as Maka continued to stare into the lifeless eyes of her mother. They were so empty.

"Maka!" a voice cut through the screams like a knife would butter. She recognized that voice…who's was it again? It felt important…

"Maka, wake up!" there it was again. It was definitely masculine and it was calling her.

Soul…

* * *

><p>Soul sighed in relief as her eyes blinked open in confusion. Sweat beaded his brow at the amount of effort it took to calm the screaming girl down. Only minutes ago, she began to mumble more frequently, before they turned into full blown screams. Somehow, no one else in the room had awoken due to the noise, but he had almost died in worry at seeing her in that state.<p>

"Soul..." she mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head in mild confusion. What was she doing here again?

Soul frowned at the involuntary tears slipping down her cheek- which she was obviously unaware of. Someone, the hopeless, distraught didn't suit someone like her.

"Are you alright?" He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, silently begging her to open up to him, even just a little and not lie and say she was fine. Because he could _see_ the red around her eyes and her trembling arms and lower lip, all of which told him clearly that she was _not_ fine.

"Yeah" she lied, her voice dropping slightly, trying to shake off his concern. She wasn't used to people actually being concerned for her well being.

He furrowed his brow at her reply, denial dripping from every action she took.

"Be honest" he sighed, wearily, the flat out lie frustrating him to no end. Didn't she trust him? Even just a little bit?

"I'm fine soul!" she snapped angrily in response, the fierceness in her tone surprising both him and herself. She extracted herself from her perch on his lap, and began to walk towards her room, ignoring the snoring and gunshots echoing behind her.

"You called for your mother…" Soul said in an almost whisper, only just loud enough for her to catch. She paused without looking back, she replied bitterly.

"She's dead."

"I know that…." Soul muttered, watching the door to her room slam shut, a loud bang reverberating throughout the small apartment.

"But do you?"


	10. Survivor

**Author's Note : Yay, the plot is finally beginning to come into it.**

**Hopefully this isnt full of too many errors, but I have some good news! I finally got my BETA back, so the chapter's will hopefully not be riddled with so many mistakes after this one.**

**Please review and let me know what you think.**

**I do not own Soul Eater in any way.**

* * *

><p>Soul sighed as Blackstar yelled once more about the speed of his breakfast cooking. Tsubaki was sweating, while trying to cook enough for an army, all the while being yelled at by the shorter, blue haired boy.<p>

"Blackstar" she began to explain "It'll be done in a minute. Just be patient-"

"WHAT IS THIS PATIENCE YOU SPEAK OF!" He replied, his 'godly' tone waking up the rest of the dorm as groans and muttered curses rolled from underneath the closed doors.

"I just mean, it'll be done in a second, just give me a little time Blackstar." She said, her attention split dangerously between trying not to burn any of the 13 eggs on the frying pan, boiling the water across from her, cutting up the bacon into strips and keeping Blackstar on his leash. It really was amazing how she completed the first 3 tasks quickly, efficiently and without difficultly, but when it came to keeping Blackstar off the table, she was struggling.

"BUT TSUBAKI. I'M HUNGRY NO-" he was effectively cut off when a thick textbook flew through the air at inhumane speeds, settling comfortable between his left and right temple. In the corner, was a growling Maka, clearly having been roused by the moron's early morning yells.

Her hair was ruffled, his eyes were narrowed into slits, she was still wearing pyjamas, and there was a large tick mark forming on her forehead. In all, she looked ready to kill someone- preferably the blue haired star currently clutching his head in relative agony.

Soul wondered briefly whether he was a masochist or not for finding her slightly cute in her pissed off, early morning state. The night before flashed through his mind momentarily. He pondered over whether his words had the slightest effect on her. He came to a conclusion that they didn't, as she looked no different this morning than she did the day before.

Little did he know, his words from the night before had formed a miniscule crack in the thick layer of ice that surrounded her heart.

* * *

><p>"Soul, I need to speak with you for a minute." Surprisingly, it was Blackstar's voice, calm and collected, a 180 degree turn away from its usual loud and obnoxious tone. They were all heading out for school, before Blackstar grabbed soul by the hand, dragging him back inside. Soul was too shocked by the seriousness in his friend's voice to protest being dragged around like luggage, and allowed the other boy to take him back to the living room.<p>

"I saw you two last night." Blackstar spoke, a grin crawling across his previously solemn face.

Oh shit. Was the only coherent thought running through Soul's mind. That loudmouthed idiot had seen! It was the end of the world. Soon, Blackstar would be shouting it from the rooftops and all the _cool_ Soul had managed to build up would be shattered. Maybe he was thinking about the wrong thing?

Maybe Blackstar hadn't seen him with Maka's head in his lap. Maybe the blue haired moron was talking about something else? He could only hope.

"I don't know what you're talking ab-"

"You and Maka, dude." He cut off, Soul's eyes widening in horror. This couldn't be happening! Anyone but Blackstar..

"I have no idea what you're saying-"

"If you want her, make a move on her." Soul couldn't stop the heat creeping up his neck and covering his cheeks in a rosy red blush. Blackstar was giving HIM relationship advice. How the fuck did this happen? It was Blackstar for goodness sakes!

"W-what? I don't like her like tha-"

"If you're too shy, I can help you out." Okay. How the hell did Blackstar translate his flat out denial into being too shy! What was going on?

Soul began to back away, oblivious to a blinking pair of wide emerald eyes, as Blackstar stalked forward, weary at the expression on the shorter boy's face.

* * *

><p>Maka walked away from the scene, a strange sensation curling in her stomach. It felt like someone had reached inside her chest, and grabbed a hold of her heart. She didn't like the feeling. Not at all.<p>

She still couldn't quite think straight. Blackstar and Soul were…. How could she not have noticed? She supposed the signs were all there. They were 'wrestling' each other, alone and on the ground only the day before. She wondered what they had really been doing… A blush stained her cheeks at the perverted direction her thoughts were drifting. But honestly? She had never seen it coming.

Poor Tsubaki, Maka thought.

Maka scowled, walking towards where she had left Kid and the others to grab a simple book from her room, not stumble upon a scene of forbidden romance. For some reason, she wanted to forget it. She wanted to wash it away, as if it were a simple stain on a white cloth. She wanted to tell Tsubaki, warn her that her secret love / holder of her affections was actually into the opposite gender. But, most of all…she wanted to quash the strange mix of disappointment that continued to grow in the depths of her heart.

Oh well, she supposed. She had always wanted a gay friend…

* * *

><p>Kid glared at the group trudging towards the school grounds. Unlike yesterday (when they were all neat and in perfect formation), today they formed this conglomerate mass of yells, fists and frustration.<p>

From what he had observed, Maka was avoiding Soul, who was avoiding Blackstar, who was in turn avoiding Soul. The conundrum made no sense, and worst of all, it managed to wreck the perfect symmetry the group once had.

"Line up!" He growled in frustration, watching as not a single eyelash was batted at his command and they continued to trudge towards the gate. Kid needed something more. Something attention-grabbing, so perhaps they would stop throwing his balance off.

"Father wanted to see our dorm this morning." He added, watching in thinly concealed delight as more than one head turned at his statement.

"He said he has something important to discuss." The group followed his lead in a perfect, single line without question, each for their own reasons.

Maka gaped at the principal's 'office'. When most people think of the word office, images of bland desks, old computers and old coffee machines usually dictate the selection, along with men all wearing the same, black suit pants, and white button-up shirt, hair slicked back in a business fashion, complete with spectacles and an annoying condescending tone of voice. Not here.

There were freakin' CLOUD mobiles hanging from the ceiling, the room was painted a light blue, faintly reminiscent of a cartoon sky, and the whole end of the room was taken up by one gigantic mirror. In the centre of the room stood the man, clothed in black, his face adorned with a white skull mask, they had come to refer to as their 'principal' and alongside him stood 'the lunatic with the knife', also known as professor Stein.

"It's so lovely to see you all!", Greeted Shinigami-sama, his words bouncing along with his actions. He studied each student wavering slightly under his gaze with close speculation, until his eyes ran over an exceedingly nervous Maka Albarn.

"Oooh, it's great to finally see you again, Maka-chan" He said, Maka stiffening at his words. Again? She knew him?

"You know me?" she mumbled under her breath in confusion, Soul being the only one standing close enough to pick up her words.

"You look so much like your mother!" The principal complemented, with what they assumed to be a smile - though they couldn't really tell because of the mask.

"You knew mama?" Maka questioned in amazement, her eyes widening slightly as the other members in the dorm turned to her in mild surprise.

"Oho, yes, she was a very talented officer. One of the best..." His words drifted off, his sentence left forever unfinished, leaving an uneasy silence it its wake.

"But she didn't work in a school." Maka shot back, still not quite understanding what their principal was even talking about. Her mother… she barely remembered her mother working at all.

"You're right, she worked with the police." He explained, shrugging slightly as Stein nodded his head a fraction of a centimeter in agreement.

"Bu- but, you're a principal" Maka stuttered, not quite understanding how he would even know her mother, even ignoring the fact that she had passed away quite some time ago. "How would you know whether she worked in the police force?

"Correct, I am a principal now. I used to work as the chief of police." He said, the whole room gaping at the slightly smug principal – all except Kid, who merely smiled.

"Then why are you a principal now?" Maka asked, oblivious to how Shinigami's mood seemed to drop and even the false cheeriness in his voice seemed to disappear for a second or two. It was a sensitive topic. Really.

"It's a long story" He sighed, his voice sounding like it belonged to a completely different person than the cheery tone heard prior.

"I just wanted to personally congratulate you and your dorm, as you have been chosen for a special excursion!" He continued, the enthusiasm flooding back into his tone as the dorm's eyes widened. How the hell did they get chosen for an excursion, when they hadn't even done anything?

"Really? Thank you so much, Shinigami-sama!" They chorused, in slight disbelief. Soul couldn't help but wonder if there was something fishy going on here. It didn't make sense. Their dorm was no different to any of the others… why would they be 'chosen' to go on an excursion? Something just didn't add up here.

"Don't thank me. In two weeks, you'll all be viewing the last execution performed in the whole country."

Clang.

That was the sound of the entire room's jaws dropping to the floor. Soul was the first to recover as he tried to analyse the situation. It didn't make any sense.

"W-w-" Maka began, her brain slowly going into overload. First, she learns that Soul is in fact a homosexual, second, she learns that her principal knew her mother, and that her mother used to be a cop, now she was being told they were going on an excursion to see an execution? It was slightly too much.

"It's an honor, Maka-chan. I thought you would have been more excited, especially considering who it is…", A troubled look crossing over his face. He legitimately appeared to be deeply disturbed by whoever it was facing execution.

"Why would I be happy if someone is going to die?" Maka asked, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Confusion, followed by surprise and understanding filtered over the masked man's face. How that was possible to distinguish was unanswered, but somehow they knew that he had just figured something important out.

"I s'pose your right." He relented. "Don't worry about it Maka-chan.."

He waved them out of the room, shaking his head all the while before turning to the grey-haired professor to his right, a grave expression shadowing his face.

* * *

><p>The ground awkwardly shuffled out of the room, Kid in the lead as Maka broadcast her queries and thoughts about their strangely acting principal.<p>

"I wonder why he wears that mask as a principal?" she pondered quietly, causing Soul to nod in agreement.

"I dunno. Maybe he thinks it makes him more god-like?" Blackstar suggested, with a shrug as the group continued to walk. Kid stopped abruptly. The others soon realized and came to a halt themselves, turning around at his softly spoken words.

"No.."

"What was that, kid-kun?" Tsubaki asked politely, tilting her head in confusion, cobalt eyes shining in curiosity.

"No. He doesn't ware it for fashion purposes." Kid explained, his usually bright golden eyes darkening slightly. The rest accepted his defence of his father, and were about to turn away before his next words stopped them in their tracks.

"He doesn't wear it because he wants to."

"Then why…" Maka uttered, a singular eyebrow raised at his statement.

"You heard him, right? He used to be a cop… and the best one at that." Kid grimaced, his mouth forming a grim line as his tone dropped. "He simply told me there was an incident… somehow, he got caught in a burning building." Maka could already see how this was going, and how it was going to end - cringing in response.

"He could have escaped… but he saw a little girl amongst the flames. He saved the girl at a price… his face burned so horrifically that he would have died in minutes had someone not done something. That mask…. His lieutenant salvaged it from the fire and put it on his face… it saved his life." Kid finished, his eyes cast downwards, his fists and jaw clenched tightly.

"So he doesn't take it off because it's special to him?" Blackstar asked, not quite understanding why everyone in the room looked like they were about to be sick.

"He doesn't take if off because he can't. It's part of his face now."

An eerie silence descended upon the dorm group, heads bowed in a mixture of emotions, varying from disgust to pity to empathy. No one dared to move an inch, as even Blackstar seemed to be affected by Kid's words.

"That's why he was so excited about the execution. The accused is the very same man that tried to burn him alive all that time ago."

* * *

><p>"That was her, wasn't it Stein…" Shinigami muttered, his eyes downcast and his tone grave. He still could barely believe Maka Albarn had stood in front of him, only 5 minutes ago.<p>

"Who?" Stein asked, already knowing the answer as he pulled a lighter out of his lab coat.

"Maka Albarn…" Shinigami whispered, glancing back up at Stein who was busy lighting a cigarette.

"She's forgotten, hasn't she?" Stein replied, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Forgotten what?" Shinigami asked, already knowing the answer but not wanting to admit it out loud.

"She doesn't remember that she is the sole survivor of the KA killings."

* * *

><p>Somewhere across town beneath the very stone of Death City, rusty chains clinked together as a dark figure sat frozen in a dimly lit cell.<p>

Its eyes opened.

They were blood red.


	11. I am not gay!

**Author's Note : Hello again everyone! I know no one actually reads these silly Author's Notes, but for the people who do, here is an interesting piece of information. It seems for me, though the frequency of my updates are often sporadic and unpredictable, I seem to subconciously try harder and update faster when I get more feedback!**

**Though it isnt particularly suprising, and it is probably the same for most authors, I just wanted to say that reviews really help. I mean, you dont have to give me an indepth explination of exactly what I did wrong / right, but it really is nice to see some feedback.**

**I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. **

**How about this? I'll draw a fan art for whatever the 50th reviewer requests, then post the link to it next chapter :P **

**Please let me know what you think! - Till next time gone-phishing.**

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><p>Soul glared at the cold meal before him, mindlessly attempting to stab at the slimy green thing that continued to evade his fork. They called it a 'brussel sprout'. He called it demon sent from the underworld, hell bent on wrecking his taste buds. The little demon sent from the underworld hell bent on wrecking his taste buds continued to roll around the plate, his fork making contact with the -fruit? Vegetable? He wasn't sure, but it continued to miss by a mere fraction. Next to him sat Kid, refusing to eat the remainder of his meal as he proclaimed that it would ruin its symmetry. Tsubaki and Blackstar had disappeared minutes ago to grab fifths from the cafeteria. Yes, that's right. Fifths. It would have been Tsubaki's seconds in reality, seeing as she graciously spared the rest for Blackstar. Liz was busy with her nails, Patty was making a giraffe out of her vegetables, which left Maka to sit and read, ignoring the noisy chatter surrounding her.<p>

Soul's frown deepened as his thoughts drifted over to the dirty-blonde haired girl. It was odd. 4 days had passed since the incident with Shinigami-sama, and nothing had changed. That was probably the weirdest part.

The dorm had passed the phase of hostility and tension between each other, and transitioned to a fairly shallow friendship. In general, they were more acquaintances than friends. They could talk to each other easily, only discussing topics that went as deep as the weather, or what homework they had that night, not daring to venture further. Though there were separate bonds he had noticed (Blackstar and Tsubaki, Kid, Liz and Patty, and Maka and himself…sort of), in general they were loose friends. Though it wasn't much, it was still something he supposed.

He hadn't talked to Maka alone much since that night, and he had a sneaking suspicion she was avoiding him. She was acting so un-Maka like, he was beginning to question his sanity when he found himself missing the weight of a thick text book imbedded in his cranium. The part that got to him the most that gnawed at his subconscious whenever he attempted to concentrate was that she legitimately appeared troubled by something, that magnified 10 fold whenever she glanced in direction.

Had something he said that night about her mother really affected her deeply? Or was it something else entirely? He wasn't sure. All that he knew was that she was going through something, that had a direct connection with himself.

Soul was brought back to reality at the echoing crash and shattering of glass.

_What the hell was that?_ He thought, glancing at the direction the noise came from. Everyone else on the table, including Maka; were staring towards the same Blue haired boy who was the centre of the echoing crash.

"Look Tsubaki! I told you if I broke the window, everyone would look at the great me!" he proclaimed, as the raven-haired girl beside him blushed in embarrassment, seeing as every eye in the room was peering directly at the duo. She proceeded to smack Blackstar over the head lightly scolding him for his actions. Shouting and standing on tables was okay, but damaging school property was not.

Soul turned back to his 'meal' uninterested, his less than appealing food staring straight at him.

With a devilish smirk, he stabbed the revolting mess through with his fork, and glanced around momentarily before dropping the demon sent from the underworld hell bent on wrecking his taste buds on Blackstar's plate. He watched as Maka began to clear her own things off the table, packing away her plates before standing up and heading out of the packed cafeteria. Tsubaki hurried after the shorter girl, as Soul decided he would do the same.

Soul trailed awkwardly behind the two animatley chatting girls, who had still not noticed his presence. He had managed to slip out without Blackstar noticing, but was counting his chickens before they hatched because a mere 10 seconds later, there was an outraged yell from inside. He bolted through the two standing in front of him, sprinting as fast as he could, ignoring the angered gasps trailing behind him.

* * *

><p>Maka growled brushing her sleeves off silently. Soul had bumped into her accidently, almost making her loose her footing. What the heck was he even running away from? She thought and why do I care?<p>

She made a face. She supposed she should apologize to the snowy-haired boy. She had been an outright…well, er, bitch all week to him. Not so much saying snappy comments to his face, or cruel words behind his back, but she had avoided him like the plague. She knew why. Still, she couldn't quite get over the fact that he was…well, together with Blackstar.

She still hadn't the courage to inform Tsubaki of this new development, partly for fear that if she spoke it aloud, it would somehow become concrete, and two she didn't want to destroy the hopes and dreams of her newly made friend.

In truth, she felt incredibly guilty about the whole thing. He didn't do anything wrong. It was her. She was the one getting the strange sinking feeling in her gut every time she watched the two boys communicate. She was the one, not mature enough to handle the idea that they might actually be…together. Maybe she just didn't want to accept that Soul had somebody_ else_.

She really didn't know anymore. The only thing she was certain of was that she owed Soul an apology. He deserved it.

"Maka, watch out!" She didn't get time to ponder the frantic words of her regularly calm friend, as within less than a second later, a tremendous force made contact with the center of her stomach, sending her flying backwards towards the pavement and landing with a sickening crack straight on her back.

"THE GREAT BLACKSTAR IS GOING TO HUNT YOU DOWN, SOUL!"

Why did his voice sound so far away? Maka wondered to herself, her mind and senses felt clouded by some unknown force.

A second later, the pain slammed into her body with the gentleness of a bullet-train, hammering all her senses and sending her into a momentary daze.

Why did it hurt so much?

She had been knocked to the ground plenty of times in the last week, because when you live with Blackstar, you either get used to it or you die of blood loss- simple as that. But every other time, she had been able to pull herself back up, slap on a fake smile and pretend it didn't feel like she had just been run over by a truck.

This time, it was different. It didn't feel as much as the impact was the source of the pain, but something else… Her skin was stinging; she could _feel_ her blood pumping within her veins, hearing Tsubaki's worried cries of apology echo around her.

Grasping the taller girl's hand, she managed to stand once more, trying to ignore how loud the ringing was growing louder with each passing second in her ears. Maka glanced wearily downwards at the cause of her pain, noticing with a good amount of horror how her blood splattered across the pavement, painting it with splotches of red. She wondered briefly why certain parts of the mess reflected the light of the sun, causing an almost sparkling reflection to shine in her direction.

Glass.

She forgot about the glass that littered the concrete from Blackstar's previous escapades.

_Shit._

* * *

><p>Soul turned his attention back to the history assignment sitting in solitude on his bed, his music turned up to full volume, blasting out of his earphones armed with a blunt pencil held in a death grip. His frustration and anger towards the tiny letters scribbled across the page was insurmountable at that moment, as he began to furiously erase yet another answer he had gotten wrong. It was fair to say that Soul disliked history.<p>

Okay, maybe it was more accurate to say he despised it...He loathed it, he hated the useless subject that had absolutely no relevance to his future what so ever. So what if some Egyptian pharaoh died when he was a kid? Soul didn't give a shit, and yet he was being graded on how much he knew about some kid who died a thousand years ago's social life.

_This is idiotic!_ He thought to himself, scrawling his next answer messily underneath the question, glancing at the thick stack of notes to his right. Though he hadn't talked to Maka in almost a week, she continued to record an extra set of notes for him which he supposed he should thank her for. Though he hated to admit it, she had also dumbed them down to a level which he could understand, from her original nerd language she used in the first place. It made this assignment much easier.

But it was still bullshit.

A small knock on his closed door brought him out of his dark thoughts, as he barely caught the light sound. Pulling out the headphones from his ears, then turning the volume right down, he left his books open on his bed turning to open the door for whoever interrupted –saved- him from his homework. To be honest, he was expecting something along the lines of a pissed-off Blackstar from the Brussel Sprout incident to come charging at him, or tortured Death the Kid, struggling to keep his OCD in check when people sat without any formation in the living room.

He was not expecting, a rather flustered looking Maka Albarn, shifting nervously, her arm only just receding from tapping on his door. He raised a brow, before stalking back and plonking down on his bed, motioning for her to join him.

She followed him into his room, shutting his door as it creaked in aggravation before clicking shut softly. She seemed to sigh, as all the built up tension of the last couple of days left her body.

"Listen." She began her voice strong and determined. "Soul.. I-"

He watched in fascination as she did something he had never seen her do before. She stuttered. Maka Albarn didn't stutter. She always talked as if she was in control, not overly confident, but never skittish and nervous…exactly like how she was acting now.

"Soul.." She began again, before an invisible force seemed to choke her next words also.

"Maka? What are you.." He questioned, tilting his head to the side in mild confusion as she dropped her head into a bow. .._huh?_

"I've been kind of avoiding you these past few days…" She tried again, as his mouth tightened.

"Kind of? More like you can't even look at me straight." He replied, not meaning to sound nearly as annoyed and frustrated as he did. It bugged him yes, but he had absolutely no right to take it out on her, especially if it was his own fault. He tried again "What did I do?" His tone was softer this time, with an almost pleading note to it.

"I'm really sorry…it's not you, I just… I didn't know."

_What the heck was she on about…_

"You didn't know what?" he asked, trying to figure out just what she 'didn't know'.

"What to think. What to do" she paused lightly, her head dropping even lower as her pigtails bounced slightly at the action ".…how to feel."

"Look at me." He commanded, as she complied with little fight, he eyes rising to meet his for the first time in days. _That was better_ he thought, _her being that submissive was creeping me out._

"Feel about what?" he demanded, eyebrows creased with worry. She was acting too weird.

She seemed to flush at his words, her cheeks dusted with a light pink as she once again avoided eye-contact. He almost growled. It took long enough for her to actually look at him, and she was looking away again. He wouldn't have it.

She gasped as his fingers made contact with her cheek, slanting her head upwards so his eyes could meet hers once more.

"About you being…you know." She continued nervously, his hand not leaving her cheek amounting to the faint color lingering on.

"No, I don't know.." he almost sighed, not able to make any sense of her words, in addition to not being able to see the effect his lingering hand on her cheek was having on her ability to formulate coherent sentences.

"A-about you and B-Blackstar." She finally managed to splutter in reply, his hand jerking off her cheek in surprise. Him and Blackstar? What the hell?

"…me and Blackstar?" He questioned, staring directly into her emerald irises.

"Don't get me wrong!" She defended, arms waving about as if they helped to communicate whatever point she was attempting to make. "I'm completely okay with you two being an item, I had just never imagined the two of you were… together?" she finished meekly with a small shrug and a sheepish smile.

His mind had officially derailed. Did she just say Blackstar, himself and together in the same sentence?

"An item?" He snapped in reply, unable to even comprehend just what she was thinking. "What the hell are you saying?"

"D-don't get angry!" she stuttered, arms still waving frantically trying to reign his temper in. "I just wasn't used to the thought of you being.." she stopped, turning away from his angry and bewildered glare.

"What? Me being what?" He almost shouted, wishing she would finish her goddamn sentences. He liked the fiery, violent and confident Maka much better than this stuttering, embarrassed one.

"B-being, _you know."_

"NO I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed in frustration, grabbing the ends of his hair and pulling as if it alleviate some of the frustration. He may not have noticed it before, but she too was at her wits end.

To hell with this stupid childish embarrassment!

"GAY. HOMOSEXUAL. WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT. I JUST DIDN'T KNOW YOU AND BLACKSTAR WERE A FREAKING COUPLE AND I'M SORRY, OKAY?" She all but screamed, loud enough so that the whole dorm must have gotten an earful.

Soul thought he had died and gone to heaven? No. Hell. Definitely hell. The girl that you may or may not like slightly more than you should thinks you are a hardcore homosexual, and now, his whole dorm does too. What. The. Fuck.

He couldn't think straight. How? How the hell did she come to that conclusion?

He was almost too absorbed in his shock, to realize that Maka had been trembling ever since she entered the room. It was getting so bad, that she was hardly sitting still anymore. Concern enveloped his entire being, all thoughts centered around him being gay forgotten for the moment.

"Maka…are you okay?" he asked wearily, with the knowledge that the usual Maka had too much pride to simply suck it up and ask for _help_ from another human being. No, she was much to proud for that. He had learned that early on.

When she said she was okay, it meant she was not okay. When she said she was not okay, it meant she was really not okay.

"I'm not sure… My back is killing me, and I thought you could take a look." She offered with a slight smile. It was he noticed how pale she was, how her hair was plastered to her forehead, coated in a layer of cold sweat.

Soul nodded in response, crouching over and helping seat her on his bed. As he quickly washed his hands in the bathroom next door, she began to explain what happened in a little more detail.

"You know how Blackstar broke that window right?" He nodded in response, but when he realized she couldn't actually see him, he gave a small grunt in agreement.

"Well, he came barreling out of the cafeteria when I was walking back and knocked me over." She said, cringing slightly as he sat down behind her, and began stare at the back of her shirt in worry.

"Blood's soaked through your shirt" He affirmed his suspicions, grabbing the washcloth and soaking it in the warm water by his feet. She cringed as he began to arduous task of rolling the back of her shirt up to get a better look.

"I think I landed in the glass…" She said quietly, noticing how he hadn't said a word since he began rolling up her shirt.

"Soul?" She asked once more confused as to why he didn't say anything.

Soul remained silent.

"Soul, are you alright?"

He couldn't reply. It had to be a coincidence. It had to be a fucking coincidence right?

Kid's words from days ago echoed endlessly through his mind, as if they were stuck on repeat.

'_He saw a little girl amongst the flames'_

As soon as he began unveiling her back, he spotted it. It started near the base of her ribs, and spread and fanned over the center of her back, reaching onto her shoulder blades.

Though there were shards of glass dotting her back, trickles of blood flowing steadily here and there, but all he could see was the ugly, horrific burn, that crawled across her body.


	12. Broken Glass and Tweezers

**Author's Note : Wow, I can't honestly believe I actually reached 50 reviews with my last chapter. *does a little happy dance in the corner.**

**Anyway, I did the request and here is the link.**

http: / gone-phishing . deviantart . com/#/d4b5qyi

**Just kill the spaces.**

**It's Blackstar and Tsubaki from a particular manga chapter, and I really do hope you enjoy because I wouldn't have ever thought of drawing it before I was asked.**

**A special thanks to Midlina, bluenian98, vampireacademygirls, KakaSaku Chan, We rock the house, Thatguyuare and Squeekyboots for taking the time to review my last chapter. You guys are amazing ^-^**

**On with the story, this chapter **_**could**_** be classified as a filler, but I think it is incredibly important. It focuses on the developing relationship and understanding between Soul and Maka, as well as introduces a character that will play a large role in the plot later on. **

**Enjoy the read, and if you have the time to spare a review, please do. Thanks again!**

* * *

><p>Maka was slowly growing uneasy. To be frank, her back was aching like hell, and Soul sitting limp behind her like a stunned mullet wasn't really helping that much.<p>

"Soul?"

She tried to get his attention once more, shifting slightly so that his palm came into contact with her back. To her disappointment, he didn't flinch, nor did he seem to notice the contact.

_What the hell is he doing_? She thought, _what did he see back there? My back isn't that interesting_…

She tried to brainstorm the possibilities of things that could capture his attention for this long that happened to reside on her back... She couldn't even come up with one!

Perhaps he was looking at a gigantic shard of glass protruding from her spine? She wouldn't doubt that, considering how strong the stinging sensation was growing. She was fed up. She came here to apologize and to hopefully get her wounds checked out, not to be stared at dumbly like she was some kind of exotic creature on exhibition at a zoo!

"Soul!" She cried, frustrated as she turned around the face the mute boy. She frowned at the expression he was wearing. Her back wasn't that bad... was it?

A large tick mark formed on her forehead when he still remained motionless, regardless of how many times she clicked her fingers or clapped in his ear. Time for plan B.

Pulling the thick textbook from God knows where, she swung the now deadly object as hard as she could (considering her current condition) into the zoned-out boy's head.

"_It's just a coincidence_." was the only coherent thought repeating endlessly through the fog of Soul's mind. He couldn't stop staring at the burn. He could faintly hear someone cry his name, but all he could focus on was the burn, and what it signified.

His singular thought was interrupted by a splitting pain in the side of his head. He recognized the feel of the leather of the tome against his skull. Ah, Oxford's extended edition. Brilliant.

He took a few moments to try and gather a coherent thought. His immediate response was to snap at her, but his train of thought was abruptly cut off when his eyes locked once more with her bare back.

This time though, instead of the burn dominating his mind, stirring unwanted thoughts and brining up uneasy questions, it was the multitude of cuts, scrapes and other debris caught in her skin. It looked like it hurt. It looked like it hurt _a lot_.

"Maka, sit back down and I'll clean it as best I can." He busied himself with ushering her back down, slowly dabbing the wet cloth on her skin as she grumbled under her breath.

"This looks pretty bad" he explained, washing away the blood as she winced every time the cloth came near a scrape. "We're going to have to get this looked at by a nurse. There's too much... stuck that I can't get out."

She nodded mutely in response, as he finished dabbing the blood away. The wounds continued to leak droplets of red, but the majority of the dirt had come away. Nevertheless, he stood, allowing her shirt to cover her back once more, reaching out and helping her off the bed.

Slipping his shoes on, he headed out of the room, Maka in tow, his hand latched onto her own dragging her along behind him.

It wasn't long before the two reached the pale cream doors of the Shibusen infirmary. The combination of his long strides and her shorter but faster ones made the duo reach their destination in no time.

A warm glow filtered underneath the closed door as Soul rapped on the wooden frame, the knocks echoing throughout the empty hall. He heard shuffling of feet, soon followed by metal dragging against the floor before footsteps filled the air.

The door swung open a moment later, revealing who he assumed to be the school nurse. She had long, blonde hair that covered her forehead, and ran down her shoulders, tied into a plait on the front of her chest. Her eyes were soft and golden, her expression one of mild curiosity as she was obviously wondering what two Shibusen students were doing at her office.

Soul glanced at the white nurse's coat that hung over her shoulders, deducing from the neatly scrawled nametag that she was called Medusa.

"Medusa-sensei, Maka fell over in some glass and her back needs to be looked at." He explained, as Maka nodded in accent. The nurse's eyes widened before she ushered the two inside, pulling Maka over to the bed reserved for patients.

"I'll need you to show me where, and I'll see what I can do." She said, quietly eyebrows furrowed in thought. "If it's too deep, we might have to take your friend to the hospital. There's only so much I can do."

Soul nodded as Maka grimaced in silent agony as the nurse gently lifted her shirt up and over her shoulders. Soul reckoned he may have had a brain aneurism or two, before Medusa seemed to remember that he was a MALE and she had just taken his very FEMALE friend's shirt off in front of his eyes.

"Uh- you might want to wait in the other room.." She said, as Maka went as red as a tomato. Soul nodded mutely, moving out of the small room his thoughts focused around attempting not to let that small drop of blood fall from his nose. Because that would just be _uncool_.

"How did it happen?" Medusa-sensei asked worriedly as soon as the white-haired boy had left the room. The lacerations were deep, and the glass and other debris left in the wounds were lodged in her skin. It would be difficult - not to mention painful - to remove them.

"I fell..." Maka explained, before proceeding to chuckle at her answer. It was true –sort of- but it sounded like one of the most lame ass excuses out of the book. "Well, onto glass that is."

She cringed as the nurse slowly applied something – Maka wasn't sure what it was, but it sure stung like hell – to the open wounds that were clean and free of small stones and glass. Medusa studied the remainder of the lacerations carefully. She had to remove them so that they didn't run the chance of getting infected. They looked as if they had already been left to fester for some hours, and any more could be dangerous.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but this is going to hurt." Medusa stood and began to gather supplied for what she needed to do. Tweezers, another washcloth, and antiseptic.

"I need to remove the glass and debris still in your back, and I don't have anything here at the moment to help reduce the pain. I would usually take you to a hospital in this situation, but I'm worried about infection considering how long the cuts have already been left unattended to..." She explained, as Maka smiled sheepishly at the end of her words. She nodded as she tried to ignore the idea of the metal tweezers and what they were about to do - and how much it was going to hurt.

Medusa carefully passed the washcloth into Maka's waiting hands with a concerned expression.

"Bite on this, it'll help." Maka twisted the cloth round and round until it formed a tight rope, before placing it in-between her jaw and waiting for the assault to begin on her back. Medusa decided that she had to get the worst out of the way first. Carefully, mauvouring the tweezers to grasp a firm hold on the largest piece of glass, she began to cautiously pull it out, weary of tearing the living skin.

"NNRGH!" a strangled scream tore through Maka's throat at the horrid feeling. Her jaw clenched hard on the cloth, as she bit down into the fabric with all her might, fighting off hot tears that began to form at the rims of her eyes.

Medusa sighed in relief, holding up the largest piece of glass with the tweezers, before placing it gently on the table besides her.

"You did really well, Maka was it?"

"Mmmph" Maka affirmed, washcloth still in her mouth. Medusa smiled at the response as she began to prepare to remove the second shard.

"Only six more to go, and then it'll all be over. That was the largest one too, so the rest won't be as bad. Just concentrate on the sound of my voice." Medusa instructed as she began to hum quietly. Maka cringed in pain as she felt the tweezers dig and pull at the second piece, but she was able to contain her scream this time around. Seconds later –it felt like hours to poor Maka – the second piece was removed as the nurse continued to hum soothingly.

A light rapping on the door echoed in the small room, feet shuffling and short breaths coming from the other side.

"Is everything alright in there?" Soul asked, the strangled yell from a moment earlier clouding his mind in pure, undiluted worry. The concern in his voice made a ghost of a smile cross the nurse's face. He sounded like he really cared.

"It's fine. Maka might need a friend in here to help her through this." Medusa answered. Maka's front was covered well enough, and an extra hand to hold would definitely help her deal with the pain. Though Maka appeared to conceal just how much it really hurt, the redness forming around her eyes was a telltale giveaway about how hard she was trying just to keep herself from screaming.

Slowly, cautiously, Soul entered the room frightened, as if he made any sudden moment, he would cause Maka more pain. Weary emerald eyes blinked at Soul as she tilted her head around to see him. He offered her a small grin, before moving towards her, ignoring her state of partial undress, instead focusing how much she may or may not need him right now.

He took a seat on the small stool beside her, as she intertwined his hand with her own.

5 pieces or shattered stone, rubble and glass later, Soul was left wondering if he needed to see the nurse, considering how tightly Maka had gripped his hand every time a new piece was dislodged from her skin. He was sure that if she hadn't broken his hand into a million pieces and shattered the bone into fragments, she had at least fractured the damn thing.

How the hell did she have so much strength anyway? She was a twig!

The nurse continued to diligently apply antiseptic, band aids and bandages on the cuts, trying her hardest to ignore the sickly distorted flesh of the burn, as its presence seemed to grow more and more pronounced. Soul too, couldn't stop himself looking at it.

Medusa smiled kindly at the duo once she finally finished with the young girl's wounds. Rummaging through her top draw, she soon found exactly what she was looking for. Turning back the two students, she opened her hand to reveal a single lollipop.

Soul's eyes widened as Maka's lit up in childish delight.

"Thanks so much, Medusa-sensei!" Maka thanked, as she stood to exit the room an innocent feeling of elation overcoming her entire being – Soul trailing after her. The simple offer of candy after a doctor's appointment made the young girl feel reminiscent of simpler times. Times when her mother was still with her. Times before dark voices and endless screaming filled her dreams. Times before forgotten memories plagued her waking mind. Times before her entire world came crashing down around her.


	13. 20 Questions

**Author's Note: Wow, 2 updates in 2 days! This story is just getting too fun to write. This chapter focuses on Maka and Soul once more, and how the mysteries between them deepen. **

**I want to thank bluenian98, Elayna19, Vi3009, and Midlina for your wonderful reviews. You guys really make my day.**

**A special thanks to my editor, who is probably sipping a cup of coffee and eating a donaught, patting himself on the shoulder and saying 'job well done'!.**

**Anyway, it would be awesome if you left a review, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask and I'll answer as best I can.**

**Until next time – gone-phishing**

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><p>Medusa smiled with a torn expression as she watched the two Shibusen students vault down the hall and out of the building. Every time she saw children like that, it made her heart ache.<p>

Sighing to herself, she too collected her coat before turning out the light and swinging the door shut behind her.

She had somewhere to be tonight.

* * *

><p>Soul allowed Maka to drag him down the hall, before she stopped before they completely left the building.<p>

"The jumper is uncomfortable on my cuts." She explained, while removing the scrap of clothing. Soul tilted his head slightly, before continuing to walk towards the exit. He didn't need to see her remove any clothing – because that always sent his thoughts rolling around in the gutter, no matter how much he attempted to reel them in.

Maka peeled the sweater off her skin, before pulling it inside out and wrapping it around her waist so that it looked like the arms were hugging her hips. Jogging, she caught up to Soul in no time, who had held the door open to the outside open for her.

"Thanks"

He merely shrugged at her words before following in her footsteps.

He glanced around at the evening air, the usual bright green trees of Shibusen that shone in the sunlight, forming dark silhouettes against the flickering lamplight. Clouds dotted the midnight blue horizon, and the crescent moon sat amongst the pinnacles of light that veiled the sky like a blanket.

He soon realized just how low the temperature of the night was, as when he went to exhale, his breath would come out in smoky puffs and a cloud of white mist would form, before disappearing a moment later. Hearing the chattering of teeth beside him, he glanced over to his companion, watching as her lips slowly turned blue and the noisy chattering of her teeth continued.

"Soul, I'm cold!" She moaned, rubbing her arms to exaggerate her statement. He snickered at her, as she stood, waiting for his offer of his own jacket to help keep her warm. Well, screw her! He thought to himself, he needed his jacket to keep himself warm.

He leaned forward, as if to slowly slip his jacket off, before veering off and flicking her gently in the forehead instead. He turned and began to walk off, her following closely in his footsteps.

"If you weren't using your jumper as an ass warmer, you might feel a bit better." He explained, her face turning varying shades of red at his words.

"Idiot!" she scolded, bonking him lightly on the head. Thank god she didn't seem to be armed with any dictionaries, or heavy reading material. "You're meant to offer the lady your jacket when she says she is cold! That's what a proper gentleman is meant to do."

He barked out short laughter at her teasing words.

"Yeah, but there's two problems with that. One, I'm no gentleman, and two, with a chest like that, you're no lady either-"

Once more, he never saw the book flying at his face before it smacked him on his left cheek. Oddly, this time it didn't seem to render him unconscious for a few seconds. In fact, the actual hit wasn't as painful as usual. He glanced down at the tiny notebook clutched tightly in her hand.

She was able to do that much damage with a notebook the size of her fist? What the heck was she?

Maka was still fuming, steam flying out of ears in rage as a bright idea came to him. She was obviously too annoyed to take whatever he said seriously, as well as she was cold and not armed with _that_ deadly reading material. This was the perfect time to ask about the… thing, on her back.

"Oi, Maka." He called to her, coming to a standstill as she did the same. She peered in wonder at the somber expression on his face, especially in contrast to his previous joking front.

"There's this… thing on your back." He started uneasily, watching her facial expression fall at his words. "I was just wondering… how exactly you got it?" He finished meekly, studying her carefully controlled reaction.

Maka immediately turned her head away from him, hanging it in an emotion akin to shame.

"The burn?" she asked in an almost whisper as Soul nodded.

For a minute she remained quiet, and for a moment he began to think she wasn't going to answer his question. All the shame, sadness and depressing thoughts seemed to drain from her body, being replaced rapidly by a fierce and defensiveness.

"You can't just ask me something like that." She snapped, a fire had ignighted in her gleaming eyes, and they seemed to almost glow and strong emerald in the darkness. "Everyone in the dorm does it too! They all want to know all this stuff about me, and I still don't know anything about them!" She ranted, arms waving in dramatic movements to her words.

Soul couldn't help but agree with her, and though he was reluctant to admit it, he too had done the exact same thing.

"It's not fair to me, and I thi-"

"Fine" He interrupted, a bright idea forming in the darkness of his mind. She looked like a bomb that had just had its fuse lit as soon as he interrupted her words, but as what he had said sunk in she only looked at him with mild curiosity.

"Fine?"

"Fine. How about this? For every question I ask you, you can ask me one in return?" He asked, starting to move off towards his dorm. The chilly breeze and the frigid temperature was getting to him. Maka followed dumbly after him, his words echoing through her mind. It was perfect! His idea was everything that she was looking for!

"It'll be like a game of 20 questions." He nodded as they fast approached the enterance to their dorm. Soul dug through his pockets, rummaging through a mixture of coins, wrappers and crumpled notes until he found what he was looking for. Pulling out his set of keys, he unlocked the door with ease, before holding it open for Maka.

"You say you're not a gentleman, yet you hold doors open for me?" she said in a teasing voice, his eyes narrowing slightly in her direction.

"You're injured, otherwise I would never do this for you, Tiny-tits."

She responded by leaping inside and slamming the door – that he was holding open, mind you – in his face and onto his toe. Bitch!

Grappling with the lock once more, he tore the door open to find Maka giggling and already making herself comfortable on the couch. None of the others were in the main room, as Soul assumed they were either out, or asleep.

He sighed, closing the door lightly behind him and making his way over to join Maka on the couch. Soul plopped down beside her, grabbing the remote and flicking through random channels to find something at least vaguely interesting to watch. He skipped over the channel that constantly played western cowboy movie reruns – with horribly dubbed voices- before Maka fought for the controller. Well, more or less just ripped it from his grasp. She changed it back to the old western movies, smiling when she found the right one.

A little nagging voice in the back of Soul's mind continued to echo that he had forgotten something. Something important. He ignored it, in favor of the old, low quality movie playing on the big screen.

He didn't realize that she had never answered his question.

* * *

><p>An hour later and Soul was bored out of his mind. Like, seriously. Old western movies were alright, he supposed, if taken in small doses with very large gaps in between. This was just too much, all at once, because suddenly, staring at Maka while <em>she<em> paid attention to the boring movie was more interesting than the gunshots and curses on screen. Prying the controller out of Maka's vice-like grip, he turned the volume down much lower, so that it was now as distracting as a fly buzzing in the opposite corner.

When she realized exactly what he had done, she turned to glare but was caught by his gaze midway.

"Let's play that game now." He purred, as she began to slink back into the pillows on the couch, but nodded none the less.

"You go first." She said, fiddling with the hem of her jumper, her eyes downcast.

"Alright." He affirmed, watching every move she made. "What's your name?"

Her head snapped to attention. There was no way in hell he could not know her name. They had been living together for the past week! Wait a minute… she supposed he only ever really called her 'Tiny-tits'. Was it really possible he didn't even remember her name? That son of a…

Her hand inched towards the Math text book she stashed under the couch, when Soul noticed her deadly gaze and quickly corrected his question.

"I-I mean, your full name, Maka." He elongated each syllable of her name purposely, trying to make her left hand stop crawling towards something that would probably leave him unconscious. Understanding filtered through her mind, as her hand retreated to her jumper and she answered.

"Maka Albarn." Soul nodded in response, not quite sure what to say. Albarn just sounded so…ordinary. Secretly, he was hoping she had some amazing, cool last name, or one that was hilariously bad. Albarn just sounded too… average for a girl like her.

"And you?" She asked, a devilish smile playing across her lips.

"Hey! You can't just repeat my questions." He grumbled.

"Fine, I won't. But I really do want to know your _full_ name." Maka repeated, determined to get an honest answer out of the boy.

"Soul Eater."

Maka frowned in disappointment. She had thought that over the past week they had grown… relatively close to each other. He still doesn't trust her, huh?

"Don't lie to me…" Maka whispered, the quiet words barely audible over the low gunshots coming from the TV. Soul was dumbstruck, how did she?

"What? I'm no-"

"I heard Kid talking to his father… You're an Evans, aren't you?" She said quietly, watching as his temper rose and he slowly got riled up. His eyebrows were furrowed and eyes narrowed, as he stood at her accusation.

"So what?" he spat, waiting for her to start treating him differently because of his last name. That was the sole reason why he didn't tell anybody! This was meant to be a _fresh_ start. He didn't want to be Soul Evans anymore! He… he didn't want her to see him as Soul Evans… "That doesn't mean anything! I'm still Soul-"

"I know…" She interrupted, smiling faintly up at him.

"What?"

"I don't care that you're an Evans… Just please. Don't lie to my face…" She pleaded, her eyes silently begging him to say he wouldn't. He could call her tiny tits, insult her chest and be a plain old jerk all he wanted, but lying… she wouldn't - no - couldn't stand that. Not after Papa.

Guilt and shame immediately pooled into the snowy-haired boy's stomach. Though he had a reason, the straight fact that he lied straight to her face when this was meant to be when they gained trust, not lost it, was just disappointing. He felt horrible, and it showed on his face.

"I'm… I'm sorry Maka." Soul apologized meekly, truly and completely remorseful about his actions.

"It's alright, just don't do it again." She replied good-naturedly, the TV in the background completely forgotten, 100% of her focus on the boy before her. "Your turn." She added as an afterthought, seeing as he made no indication of asking another question.

Soul decided to start with a simple question, one that couldn't dredge up murky pasts or complicated feelings. Heck, they couldn't even get past knowing each other's _names_ without some kind of ill feeling being wrung to the surface.

"What do you like more, summer or winter?"

She didn't even pause and responded confidently without hesitation.

"I love the summer, hate the cold."

"Really?" he exclaimed, finding difficult to believe that someone legitimately enjoying being hot and sticky. "I hate the heat, much prefer to be freezing my toes off than sweating like a pig."

She snickered slightly before nodding in agreement. "Fair enough."

"What's yo-"

"Hey, it's my turn!"

"I just said I liked winter, so you already had your turn" he argued, seeing no flaws in his logic what so ever.

"Nah, that doesn't count, 'cus I didn't ask, stupid." She retorted childishly, poking her tongue out at him.

"Fine, fine." He conceded "Go ahead."

"What's your favorite food?"

"Brownies." He replied evenly with a smile of reminiscence "Definitely brownies. My brother used to make these amazing brownies after we finished tutoring. I would always take them before they cooled then burn myself and he would scold me while fussing over the tiny marks." He laughed at the end of his little recount, the memories of the countless burns and tears spilled over the marks surfacing.

"Your brother sounds like a nice guy" Maka offered with a lop-sided grin. Soul had an odd expression on when he spoke of his brother. It was joy, mixed with love and a whole lot of remembrance. To Maka, it didn't make any sense.

"Yeah.. He was a pretty amazing brother…"

"Was?" she questioned, picking up on the way he referred to his brother. Had something happened between them? "What changed?"

"H-he's dead." Soul replied somberly, eyes dull and vacant, making him look almost lifeless for a moment. The expression scared Maka out of her shock at his words, as she laughed uneasily and scratched the back of her neck.

"…I just stepped on a landmine, didn't I?"

"Heh, pretty much…"

An anxious silence descended upon the two, as only the sounds of the TV, and snores from nearby echoed in the room. Both Soul and Maka were trying to think of a way to lighten the conversation, even if just a little.

Soul decided that it was technically his turn, so he ought to keep playing at the very least.

"What's your favorite food?"

She cracked a grin at his question, as he simply raised an eyebrow at her peculiar reaction.

"Cucumber. Definitely cucumber."

Maka giggled girlishly as Soul choked on air.

"Cucumber?" He repeated in disbelief "Man, you're weird. What kind of kid has cucumber as their favorite food?"

"I do, I suppose."

Maka allowed herself to slump back into the soft couch, tension from her body slowly draining away. She was able to forget about the wounds on her back, and lying like she was at that moment, she couldn't feel them in the slightest.

She began to brainstorm another question, as she felt the need to yawn. Exhaustion was beginning to overcome her willpower, but she wouldn't submit just yet.

"Hey Soul…" she said, midway through a yawn "What was your favorite childhood memory?"

He looked in her direction curiously, before leaning his head over the top of the couch, so he was staring listlessly at the white painted ceiling.

"Favorite childhood memory?..." he echoed, before pausing then thinking for a moment.

"This one time, Wes and I were allowed out of the house for a full day. I was about 6 at the time and he was 12. I wanted to see this pond in the corner of our estate desperately, so he took me down, holding my hand all the way. When we got there, he refused to let go and he kept saying that I would fall in if he let go. I remember staring into the pond, and seeing all these tiny tadpoles. I had never seen a tadpole before at that time, and had no idea what they were. I started crying, and Wes got worried, and he asked what was wrong. I kept wailing and saying that the worms could somehow swim and were going to hurt him. I remembered his laughter, before he showed me one of the tiny frogs that had just evolved from the tadpoles. I spent hours trying to catch other tiny frogs like that afterwards, Wes watching me the whole time. "

Soul was grinning childishly by the end of his small story, as Maka too began to grin in response.

"That sounds pretty fun…" she said, her tone light and her words airy.

"What about you, Maka?"

"Me?" she paused, searching desperately for any memories that she could recount, or even recall at all. "I can't really think of any… ah, wait, I remember one. It was way back, before papa lost his job, before Mama was always sick. I could barely walk at the time, but one day in the middle of summer, it was during a heat wave, I think, but my parents wanted to take me out. I didn't like going out when I was a kid, because my neighborhood smelt bad, and I always thought there were monsters outside. My parents said they had to show me, so they picked me up and dragged me out of the house. I kicked and screamed all the way, but when I opened my eyes, I was in this beautiful place. Never before had I seen anything so green and full of life. Back then it was a park that was built by one of the richer families. In the middle was this big swing set. It was bright blue and red, and I remember swinging on it for hours, before Papa had to come and drag me away again. "

She finished as Soul's mind was sent reeling from her words. Swing set? Could it have been-

"Was that-"

"Yeah. That was the park we first met in."

Maka yawned once more, stretching her limbs like a cat, before curling up into a ball of sorts, allowing her head to lean against Soul's shoulders.

"Why are your teeth so sharp?" she asked in a mild daze, slowly but surely falling into slumber. She was staring curiously at his teeth, as he gnashed them together in response.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear." He drawled, quoting one of the only nursery rhymes he was ever exposed to as a child.

Maka snorted with laugher at his response, as he too laughed lightly at the sound she made.

"Why do you read so much?" He questioned, determined to figure out as much as he could about her, when she was in this state. She seemed to be half way between sleep and consciousness, so that she was awake enough to answer questions, but not awake to hold any of the defenses she constantly had up during the day.

"I don't know… It's always been a way for me to escape, I guess."

"From what?"

"Everything. Just everything"

She was staring at him again, and it was making him slightly uncomfortable. This time, her eyes were fixed squarely on his locks of white-silver hair.

"Why is your hair white?" she asked, eyes slowly closing.

Soul grimaced. She wouldn't be awake enough to question his excuse anyway, so he supposed it was alright if he…didn't tell the _whole_ truth.

"I had an accident when I was a kid… that accident is also the reason why my teeth are so sharp.."

"Sounds painful…" she mumbled into his chest, as he simply nodded in response.

"Yeah… what about you?"

"What about me?"

"That burn on your back." He said in an almost whisper. "What happened?"

"Let's just say it was an accident too, alright?"

"Ok." Soul wasn't sure if the entity that was Maka Albarn was growing clearer or slowly getting more complicated.

"Your turn" he said, watching as she nuzzled deeper into his chest.

"What happened with your parents?"

"Ever since Wes died, they can't look at me, and I can't look at them. I don't consider them my parents anymore."

"Th – " she yawned loudly, half way through her sentence, before continuing once more as if nothing had happened. "– that's really sad."

Soul grimaced, he didn't enjoy talking about his personal family life. He quickly moved on to say his question.

"How about your parents, Maka?"

"Papa's… he's - I don't even know anymore. Mama's dead."

Soul could still hardly believe the ease with which she could talk about her parents, who had obviously caused her so much pain. He didn't like delving deeper into the abyss, but he would probably never get another chance to ask her questions like these.

"You said she was murdered… was her murderer connected with the fire that caused the burn on your back?"

"No…"

"Wha-"

Soul was cut off by Maka before he could question her response.

"No… the person who killed my mother…"

"Was me."

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><p>"13!"<p>

There was no response, as the number was barked out once more by a gruff voice. Footsteps clacked against cobblestone as they slowly grew louder and louder.

"Prisoner number 13! You have a visitor!" shouted the voice once more, as the grating of metal bars sliding against concrete filled the otherwise, deadly silent air.

A dark figure sat motionless on a bed, shrouded by shadows and cloaked in darkness, it sat gazing emptily at the visitor approaching the entrance of the cell. The way its eyes shone in the pitch blackness of the cell, made them almost glow crimson. It all, it looked like a figure of nightmares, a bringer of terror…a monster.

The visitor spoke.

The _monster_ smiled.


	14. A key

**Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to come out. I have been doing x, y or z for the past few days, but now the holidays have arrived, so I will be updating much more frequently - hopefully. **

**On a side note, I forgot how awesome it feels to get long reviews. I remember when I read fan fiction, but had never giving writing a go, I never quite understood why authors always seemed to beg for reviews. That was until I posted my first story, and I discovered the wonder that was the reviews. Maybe it helps my self confidence? I don't actually know, but long reviews make me go all warm and fuzzy inside.**

**Oh, and I must celebrate this. Woo! 60 reviews! Mwahaha! I can't honestly believe I have that many.. You know an interesting piece of information? This was only intended to a three-shot, a sort of prologue to the Soul eater series, but instead, I accidently turned it in to this... *shrug. So worth it!**

**Aaaanyway, a special thanks to Midlina, Drew Secrets, bluenian98, xXCanaryXx, vampireacademygirls, Unknown and New Neon. You guys are amazing and deserve some kind of cookie as a reward. Wait no, I'll reward you reviewers with more frequent updates, how about that? :P**

**Thanks for reading / reviewing.**

**I do not own Soul Eater in any way, shape or form.**

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><p>"<em>Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn't."<em>

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><p>Soft snores bounced off the marble walls as Soul continued to stare in complete shock and the sleeping girl before him. Maka Albarn was many things. She was stubborn, brash, intelligent and even violent at times… but Maka Albarn was no killer.<p>

There was no way.

He could see it in the way she talked, walked, looked and how her eyes shone in the very memory of her deceased mother. She loved her mother more than anything- that was blatantly obvious. The mere thought of her causing intentional harm towards someone she cared so deeply for was simply unfathomable.

Soul scowled as his thoughts divulged deeper. It wasn't right. Something just wasn't right here. He was sure without an inkling of a doubt, that her mother's death and the burn on her back were connected. It made sense that way.

They _had _to be connected.

But what if they're not?

A nagging voice echoed in the back of his mind. Soul felt like tearing his hair out in pure frustration. This situation wasn't getting any clearer. He sighed, before glancing down at the girl leaning on his shoulder. Sighing, he began to gather her up in his arms, wary of any wounds on her back. He draped her arms around his neck, before carrying her gently back to her room.

It was true, he wasn't sure what was going on. It was true that whatever happened back then was probably best left unsaid. But… the only thing he was absolutely certain of was the fact that the man being executed had played a role in the series of events. However minor, Soul was sure that there was a link.

_Just who was he?_

Soul pulled the blanket over Maka's body, tucking her in before heading out and shutting the door behind him.

He would ask Kid tomorrow.

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><p>"I came when you told me to." Spoke the visitor, her usual bright golden hair cloaked in darkness and covered in shadows, making the golden plaits hanging on her chest almost look like chains. The visitor still wore her uniform from work, a long nurse's overcoat hanging over a black undershirt. Her voice was grim and heavy, as if there was an iron weight sitting upon her chest.<p>

The figure behind the bars shifted into view slightly, its features slightly more visible, and visage more clear, though it still was just another shadow clinging to the wall to any ordinary onlooker. Flies buzzed and swarmed in the corner of the small cell where a vile smell emanated from the corner where the insects feasted on rotten flesh.

The figure allowed its head to drop, before raising its head once more, in a gesture reminiscent of a nod, but distorted so it looked like a snake rearing its head and about to strike.

"Y-you said that you would tell me where she is..." The visitor pleaded, her confidence withering away like the mess in the corner being picked clean.

"I did?" The figure spoke, its voice surprisingly human. Its tone was taunting, as it swayed its black, black head to an invisible tune.

"Yes you did!" The visitor affirmed, nodding vigorously. "You promised that you would after I did you that last favour!"

"I don't remember that.." the monster said, scratching the top of his head in mock confusion. The visitor trembled in a mixture of frustration and despair.

"You promised me!" she growled, tiny teardrops forming round the rims of her watery golden eyes.". You said that after I did that, I would finally be free from this life…from you, and that you would tell me where she is!"

The monster titled its head to the side, an invisible pout across its lips.

"That sounds like an awful big promise..." it said, each word purposely elongated leaving the mocking words, echoing in the visitor's ears.

"Don't play dumb with me, you son of a bitch!" she exploded, fists flying against the metal bars, fingernails cracking and breaking as her fists bruised horribly. But the visitor didn't care about the pain, or the consequences of her actions. She just wanted_ her_ back. "Give her back to me! Do you hear me? GIVE MY DAUGHTER BACK!" The yells echoed and bounced off the walls, as the one behind the bars cringed slightly at the volume of her voice.

"Such a loud woman..." it muttered to itself, watching as the visitor slowly slid down the bars on the other side. "You might alert the guards if you keep this up."

"Shut up…just shut up… why? Why won't you tell me?" the woman clenched the bars of the other side, badly damaged and bleeding fingernails digging to the iron, the resulting screech caused the monster only to smirk.

"Because I'm not finished with you quite yet, my dear."

The short, panting breaths the woman was forced to soon turned to muffled sobs and choked cries of anguish. It wasn't fair. Everything she did, everything she was forced to do for this… monster, and what did she get? Nothing but a bounty on her head, and invisible chains around her ankles.

"Because I can't stand the sound of a woman crying, how about this? You convinced Shibusen to view the execution, right?" It asked slowly, as the broken woman was only able to nod in response.

"If you make sure that Shibusen is there, and do me one ti-i-iny little favour right now, I'll give you…" He paused, momentarily considering his options. "A hint."

"F-fine... What do you want?" The woman stuttered in response, slowly but surely recollecting herself.

"Just give me a key." The thing behind the bars asked an invisible smile in his voice.

"T-the key to this door?"

He chuckled slightly in response, but it sounded anything but happy. It sounded like flesh being pounded, bones cracking and fingernails scraping on a chalkboard. It sounded pure evil.

"No, no..." it affirmed, as the woman sat frozen "just the key to some of the facilities in Shibusen…"

"W-why do you want that?" She asked meekly, praying that he wouldn't start laughing like that again. The sound already made her blood run cold, and chills run up her spine, as she prayed to never again hear the unholy sound.

"You'll see, my dear. You'll see."

The woman dug through her purse with ruthless efficiency, quickly finding one of the smallest Shibusen keys she could.

"13! YOUR WIFE IS HERE TO SEE YOU!" A loud voice echoed through the vile cell, as the monster gestured for the first visitor to lean closer. Pulling her ear through the bar so he was breathing directly into it, and subtly pulling the key from her hand, he whispered.

"She's closer to you than you think."

The sound of footsteps grew louder and louder as the visitor sprinted away.

Away from the darkness.

Away from the rancid stench.

Away from her past.

And away from the _monster._

She darted around the two figures that walked in after, not paying either any heed as she continued to run.

* * *

><p>The visitor never realized that the key she handed over had "Shibusen Dorm Key 1" engraved in it.<p>

* * *

><p>"Okaa-sama… who was that?" The smaller of the two figures said, its voice high-pitched but indistinguishable whether it was male or female. The taller of the figures continued to walk, the other trailing meekly behind like an abused puppy.<p>

"Shhh." The taller hushed, almost a minute later when the first visitor was long gone.

"That was no one, Chrona."

The flies continued to feast, mindlessly.

* * *

><p>Lunchtime came before Soul had time to bat an eyelash. He liked to think that his relationship with Maka had deepened, ever so slightly. She seemed to also not remember the very end of their conversation, and acted like she didn't just tell him that she murdered her own mother. He supposed it was for the better. This way, there were no awkward silences and pauses slightly too long exchanged between them, only a comfortable air of friendship, and maybe something a little deeper. He was now running like there was some kind of 40ft monster chasing him, in search of the elusive Death the Kid - son of the principal.<p>

He wasn't with the usual group, he wasn't at the water fountain, he wasn't in the grass or in the classrooms, so just where was he?

Kid seemed to be the kind of mysterious guy who somehow knew all the answers but gave away nothing. He had this sort of unreachable aura around him, which none –except the Thomson sisters- seemed to be immune to. Soul had only once or twice questioned the surprisingly deep friendship that already existed prior to getting placed in the same dorm, between the sisters and Kid. He came to the conclusion that whatever kinds of bonds they shared, were deep enough so that they had a sort of subconscious connection. For example, Kid seemed to know exactly what the sisters would like most for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Liz would somehow predict when he would have a meltdown over something being asymmetric, and then send Patty to kick his ass in advance. Somehow, the three of them made this seemingly perfect trio, as they seemed to all know each other, and work together so well, they were all like parts of a well oiled machine.

To be perfectly honest, Soul was very slightly envious. Only because he subconsciously craved the same deep connection with another human being because his last was torn so brutally from him at such a young age.

Soul was panting by the time he checked the last classroom. He couldn't find Kid anywhere.

Screw it, He decided. It just wasn't worth it.

Sighing, he dragged his feet to a nearby chair, before collapsing into the rickety frame, causing a loud squeak to ring out down the hall. Soul faintly heard a door opening from behind him, but paid it no heed, closing his eyes as the strain and stress built up over the past day and night began to evaporate.

"You worthless git. Either shut the left side of your trap or I'll do it for you." A growling voice threatened from above him. Soul smirked in reply, returning the symmetry of his facial features, and heard the voice above him sigh in apparent relief.

"Kid, I need to talk to you for a sec." Soul commanded, peeling his eyes open as Kid nodded curtly in response. Kid decided to keep quiet about the small drop of sweat dropping from only the left side of Soul's neck, favouring following quietly for that moment, his previous discussion with his father echoing in his ears.

Soul led him to one of the largest classrooms - currently empty as all the students had evacuated as soon as the lunch bell had rang - belonging to professor Stein. A mutated corpse of some sort of animal – judging by the feathers, it used to be a bird - lay on the teacher's desk, so Soul simply walked to his own, took his seat and gestured for Kid to take one as well.

"What do you want?" Kid asked, watching as Soul's forehead contorted into a half frown.

"Always right to the point I see" Soul joked, as Kid's own eyebrows scrunched in response.

"You never talk to me. So spit it out, what is it?" Kid sighed in response, folding his hands neatly on the table and watching his male counterpart with a critical golden eye.

"Listen.., I'm just confused, is all." Soul started, but passed midway. He wasn't sure how to bring it up without sounding slightly…psychotic.

"About?" Kid attempted to hurry the white-haired boy along. Lunchtime was running out, and soon other students would begin to file in the classroom, ruining whatever chance they had to talk.

Soul's eyes were downcast, as he eventually choked out the word that left a purely bitter taste on his tongue, "Murder."

"Contemplating killing someone, I see?" Kid teased, as Soul flushed angrily.

"Shut up, I'm serious…" He growled, before continuing. "What do you think it takes to kill someone?" He asked honestly. He didn't want to know. He needed to know, and it showed in his voice.

"On purpose?" Kid clarified, still shell shocked at what his regularly quiet and 'cool' roommate was confiding in him.

"Yeah… what kind of person do you have to be to murder someone?" Soul tried again, as his desperation was starting to rise exponentially.

"You don't have to be any kind of person." Kid replied eyebrows furrowed. His answer depended on whether Soul truly wanted the truth. Besides, his own views might differ from the other boy's which could lead to a rather aggressive dispute. Kid honestly didn't want that to happen, and because of that, he would only explain what he meant if Soul truly asked him to.

"What do you mean? Give me your opinion." Soul persisted, hands gripping the desk below him like a vice. He needed an opinion other than his own. He needed someone to talk to, that wasn't himself. He needed this…whether he would admit it or not.

Kid sighed in response, as he tried to formulate a way to put his personal views and thoughts into words and phrases that made sense to others than himself.

"Soul, I personally think any kind of person has the capability to kill another, depending on the circumstances."

Soul frowned lightly. That wasn't the response he expected, nor was hoping for.

"So you're saying we're all killers at heart?" He clarified, his thoughts running a million miles an hour at that simple statement.

"No, that's not what I mean. Tell me, would you kill a murderer to save an innocent?"

Soul's eyes widened in shock. He tried to think of a response… logic… logically, it made sense. He would. Because doing that wasn't murder… right?

"Yeah..."

"But would you kill an innocent to save yourself?" Kid challenged, watching as Soul's expression changed once more. It was shock this time too, mixed with a good amount of horror at the simple question he asked.

"No way!" Soul growled. What the fuck did Kid think he was? A psychopath? A murderer? What the hell?

"You say that now, but if the situation really arose, would you stand by those words?" Kid persisted, his words sinking deeper and deeper into Soul's mind, leaving a permanent impression on his brain.

"Yes I would! I wouldn't kill an innocent to save myself…" Soul defended himself, logic slowly falling away, piece by piece. He wasn't selfish... he - he wouldn't murder someone to save himself.

"Then, would you kill an innocent to save your friends?" Soul's eyes widened in disbelief at the sheer power of the question.

"What are you..."

"Say the whole dorm got taken hostage. The hostage taker tells you that you have to kill a terminally ill child to save everyone, or he will kill all of us, one by one." Soul's brain tried and failed to come up with a solution that wasn't one of Kid's options.

"I…I would try to save you guys-"

"The hostage taker would slaughter us if you made a move to. Say the terminally ill child would die in a weeks' time, regardless of what actions you took. What would you do then?" Kid finished, his point finally hammering through the thick fortress of defensiveness and denial that walled the other's mind.

"…I…I would kill the child." Soul answered a minute later, his eyes wide open, unblinking, his conclusion leaving him stunned and horrified. Was he just as bad as those murderers he saw on TV?

"But then, what if the child was healthy?" Kid asked one more, adding yet another twist sending Soul's barely functioning mind over the edge.

"I… I don-"

"You would kill the child." Kid answered eyes downcast and hands clenched in his lap. "Like the rest of us, we treasure those we know more than those we don't. What would you do if the child was Maka?"

"What!"

Soul trembled under the magnitude of the question. There was no way he could choose! There was no way he would ever let Maka die, especially under his watch, but could he really live with himself if saving her cost the lives of his friends? Could she live with herself, knowing that because of her, they're all dead?

Both questions remained unanswered as Kid continued on, not leaving enough time for Soul to think of a descent response.

"What would you do if you had to choose between the lives of the rest of us, and her?" Kid repeated, hands slamming upon the desk as Soul flinched violently at the noise.

"Shut up..." Soul tried to silence the growing thoughts in his brain. "That'll never happen." He muttered, as Kid sighed once more, crossing his arms over his chest, golden eyes dimmed to a dull brown.

"You probably wouldn't choose at all. But if you did, what right do you have? Is one life more precious than others? Is one life worth more than others? No one on this entire planet has the right to take away life, and I wish I could say that no one does. But that is a lie. Horrible, horrible things happen every day on this planet, lives are stolen with no consequences are given to those responsible. If you killed somebody in the middle of the street, its murder, but in a war you're a hero."

Soul wondered why everything Kid was telling him made so much sense. He didn't want this. He wanted to believe that everyone at least had some good in them. We're not all murderers… are we?

"What are you saying..."

"What I'm saying, Soul, is that there is no one on the planet who is not capable of murder." Kid said, his voice sounding so off, so old… so weary, it wasn't even recognizable to the voice he used while discussing mundane things or arguing with Blackstar / obsessing over symmetry. It sounded like he was carrying a burden, much too heavy for his age. And it was taking its toll.

"But… but if what you're saying is true… "Soul spluttered in response "I, I just can't accept that. There are some people on this planet who would never take another's life, regardless of the situation."

A ghost of a smile haunted his features.

"And I wish I could agree."

Soul's thoughts slowly trailed back to Maka, and the conversation they had last night. He had to get it off his chest. Thoughts about that moment continued to plague his waking mind, along with his dreams and nightmares. He had to get it off his chest, and he knew that Kid would be the best person to turn to.

"Maka told me something disturbing last night, Kid..." He started off, watching as Kid's eyes shot up in surprise. "I just don't understand. She's like us! There's no way she could kill… not to mention who she said… It just doesn't make any sense! Then that burn on her back… and the man getting executed… no matter what I do, it just doesn't add up!" Soul finished, clutching the poor desk so hard it was moments away from snapping in half.

Though Kid didn't understand the majority of what Soul had just told him, he managed to catch one, important part that was the subject of discussion of his last meeting with his father. He knew exactly what Soul was talking about.

"You mean to public execution we're going to view?" Kid tried to affirm, as Soul nodded slightly.

"Yeah… how does that man know Maka?" He growled, more to himself than to Kid. Soon, his thoughts changed to another direction, as a strange new emotion was added to the roiling mass of crimson that was his eyes. This one glinted, and formed glowing flecks in the deep pools. Dare Kid say it? ...It looked almost like - 'hope'.

"You would know, wouldn't you? You're the principal's son!" Soul almost begged as Kid gasped in understanding. He supposed he could help the other out, even if it wasn't much, it was something.

"I don't know much, but I can give you a little information… Soul, how much do you know about serial killers?"

The scowl on the other boy's face grew deeper with each word, and as soon as 'serial killer' was mentioned it twisted so badly that the mass of creased brows barely looked like a face anymore, but more a mix of razor sharp teeth, snarling maw and ferocious red eyes.

"Why would I know about that?" He snapped in response, his tone aggressive.

"Good point. Basically, when the police hunt a serial killer, they are classified usually by a title, but in the actual police force, a number from 1 to 12 is distributed according to how dangerous the killer is." Kid explained, as Soul's expression slowly began to relax. "For example, Jack the Ripper was only a 9."

"He was only a 9? Then what kind of fucking monster is 12?"

"The man being executed… He was classified as 13."


	15. Nobody

**Author's Note - Heh, a quick apology here. This chapter was originally meant to be about 3x as long, but I decided to split it into 2 chapters, so the next one will be longer. This chapter covers a few crucial areas, including raising even _more_ questions about the main cast's mental stability.**

**On a side note - What. Why did I get so many reviews last chapter? 8? You guys are awesome! I don't even understand it myself, but 8 reviews for one chapter? *Cheer**

**I want to thank SAHCB, Elayna19, Drew Secrets, Sempaisama365, bluenian98, Midlina, Haru-Kaede, and Eieriann for your wonderful reviews. I wish this chapter was better written so it would be like a reward, but real life attacked me today and I haven't had much time to look over it. This was the best I could do, so if you have to slap me in the face with a bag of sour skittles, I suggest you get it over and done with.**

**Anyway, another reason why this wasn't out last night was because I spent almost 15 hours drawing this wallpaper for Soul Eater, coloring it, then finishing it, and I swear, my theory is true! The less time / effort I put into somthing, the more people like it! It's really frustrating! I spend an hour on a sketch and for some reason, get 80 favorites on it. Then, I spend 15 hours on a wallpaper and I get 10! *feels like kicking an object then stubbing my toe as a result.**

**Here is the link to that gosh darn wallpaper that cost you guys an update.**

**http : /gone-phishing . deviantart . com/art/Soul-Eater-Wallpaper-261643901**

**Kill the spaces and check it out, then tell me whether you think it was worth 15 hours... pshhh.**

**In other news, I'll stop rambling now so you can enjoy the story, not that you actually read this bold text. **

**Please drop a review, but otherwise enjoy the read.**

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><p>Soul sat slouched on the couch, Kid by his side, both watching old TV sitcoms as their own thoughts wandered far from the bright screen before them. The bell had rung as soon as Kid bit out his last words, and the rest of their class began to slowly file in. Though the conversation had technically ended there, the ideas, thoughts and horrible premonitions brought on by Kid's insight would haunt Soul for days.<p>

The execution they were viewing as a class… Why would they take children to not only see someone get killed, but the very fact of whose execution they were seeing ought to make most people shake in their boots. So why was it okay? Why as it even allowed? Surely the more adamant, protective parents would never let their child be within 100 feet of such a man… so why were they purposely invited to view it?

It made no sense.

Kid's words of advice only muddled the already scattered thoughts, and everything was just too mixed up for Soul to see straight. The words Lord Death spoke all that time ago implied that Maka had some sort of connection with the man. But why would she? How would someone like her know a dangerous killer like him?

That in itself was a mystery. But what deepened the conundrum further was how did Shinigami-sama know that Maka had a connection with him?

What about fire? Maka had a horrendous burn across all of her upper back, and Shingami-sama had his face burned off for fucks sake. Kid said that his father was injured trying to save a little girl. If that little girl was her, what in god's name was she doing in a place like that? If the man being executed tried to burn Shinigami-sama alive like Kid said, was Maka another target, or was she just caught in the crossfire?

All the pieces of evidence were connected together to form a jagged line with holes every few steps. He needed more. He couldn't make anything substantial out of what he knew so far, and he needed more evidence. But how would he get it? He couldn't ask Maka. That was out of the question, as he felt he had already taken advantage of her enough in her drowsy state, the night before.

Her mother's death haunted him too. He was so sure that it was connected to the fire. But what if it truly wasn't? What did that mean? Maybe her death was some horrible accident, that Maka blamed on herself?... No, if that was true then Maka's eyes wouldn't look like they did when she discussed the incident. Truly… she believed she murdered her mother. What if she did? More to the point, if she loved her mother so much, why would she?

The confusing thoughts, endless questions and answers lurking just beneath the surface were slowly making his stomach turn. Sure, he had his own fair share of secrets, but nothing like this. To be honest, all he wanted was for him and Maka to… what did he want again? Did he just want to be her friend, or did he want more than that?

"_Of course you want more than that. You're gree-eedy, Soul."_

Soul's eyes widened in absolute terror at the voice that bounced around his mind. What the fuck was it doing here? It was meant to be gone. He… he got rid of it, all that time ago. So why was it talking again? Why was it back?

Soul covered his ears with his hands, as he literally bolted off the couch and into the darkness and safety of his room.

"Go away… Stay the hell away from me!" He pleaded, as the door slammed shut behind him and that horrible, horrible voice echoed in the depths of his mind once more.

"_Never..."_

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><p>"Come on Maka, just this one time!" The surprisingly desperate taller of the Thompson sisters pleaded, clinging to Maka's shoulder. Maka frowned, concentrating on the thick textbook before her, eyes skimming over the tiny, bold printed words but not really taking anything in. I mean, how could she with a 15 year old girl hanging off her shoulder, and another laughing loudly in her ear, only centimetres away.<p>

"I said, no. There's no way I'm going to skip class!" Maka growled threateningly, fingers slowly creeping along her textbook grabbing a descent hold and preparing herself to inflict a Maka-chop if necessary. The Thomson sisters had ambushed her in the corridor when the lunch bell rang, claiming that shopping with friends would be much more beneficial than dissecting some endangered animal in Stein's class. Though Maka secretly agreed, she would much rather pretend to pay attention in class while really be reading through her newest novel she borrowed, than out armed with 24 shopping bags and watching her wallet empty. She worked hard for that money, damn it!

"C'mon, Maka!" Liz whined desperately, tugging on the other girl's shoulder once more. "Tsubaki will be there too!" Liz cried in attempted persuasion. Maka snorted in response.

"Yeah, but Tsubaki actually enjoys shopping. I however, would much rather explore the gullet of a new breed of endangered animal with Stein-sensei as my guide." Okay, that was a little bit of a lie. She never wanted to see a scalpel, and or frog again in her life thanks to that man. But they didn't need to know that.

"What…what if Patty and I paid for you?" Maka smiled. Well… she supposed she could miss just one or two lessons. Maka nodded shortly, as Liz's face lit up in delight.

"Well..." Liz began to correct herself "It wouldn't exactly be my money... more like" she coughed loudly in the middle of her sentence, her cough sounding an awful lot like 'Kid's'.

Maka chortled and Patty began to replay what Liz said, loudly and in a chant.

"Kid's money! Kid's money! Kid's money!" Liz quickly covered her sisters mouth with her hands, twitching slightly, whispering quietly to her twin.

"Shh... we wouldn't want Kid finding out, now would we?" Patty only laughed loudly and began to stomp off in the opposite direction, claiming that she would now find Tsubaki and ask (more like tell) her that she was coming.

Maka raised one sceptical eyebrow at her as Liz sweat dropped in response.

"'Tsubaki will be there too, eh?" Liz began to push the slowly enraging Maka out of the school gates, dragging her towards the exit.

"Well… she will?"

Maka only sighed in response.

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><p>The sound of knuckles rapping softly on a metal door reverberated throughout the small Nurse's office. Medusa-sensei gasped in surprise, organizing the files scattered over the desk to a semi-neat state, before walking over to the door and pulling it open. She was surprised (as well as relieved) to see that it was a fellow teacher that needed assistance, not a student in need of aid. Blood brought up bad memories.<p>

The man's hair was grey, and his own teacher's coat looked an awful lot like something someone out of Frankenstein would wear. His glasses glinted in the flickering light of the room, so his eyes were not visible, giving him an almost supernatural look. Medusa blushed slightly, quickly moving aside so he could step into the room, shutting the door with a soft click behind him.

The man began to fumble with the front pocket of his coat, his fingers searching for some kind of foreign object. A moment later, they pulled out a metallic lighter and a cigarette, as he lit the stick before pulling the lighter back in his deep pocket. He inhaled deeply, exhaling once, watching as the small clouds of smoke drifted slowly towards the celing.

"Do you need anything, Stein?" Medusa asked, recalling his name being mentioned once or twice when students came in with sick stomachs. They always seemed to mutter something about 'Stein' and 'Freakin' psychopath', but Medusa never quite understood what they were getting at.

He exhaled again, before turning to face her, eyes now visible through his glasses. Somehow, she liked that much better. He looked more human this way.

"Medusa- was it?" He said, as she nodded shortly in affirmation. "You joined us here at Shibusen about a year ago… correct?"

She nodded again, the movement quick, brief and controlled. On the outside, she looked calm and collected. On the inside, her thoughts were running a million miles an hour. Was this some kind of interrogation? What did this man know? Why was he here?

"Yes, that's right. I joined a little over a year ago. Why do you want to know?" She responded, immediately on the defensive. Stein's calculating gaze took note of every miniscule movement and change in her emotions and outward appearance as he continued.

"I just wanted to welcome you to Shibusen!" He said, his voice loose and frivolous compared to the serious note it was on before. Medusa was momentarily thrown. What just happened? She joined Shibusen over a year ago, and never had been questioned… nor thrown some kind of odd – not to mention late- welcome party. She couldn't help but smile at the man's antics. She had never been thrown a welcome party before…

He pulled a bottle of Champaign and two glasses from his coat, as he began to pour them both a drink. She accepted hers graciously, clinking it against his own before taking a small sip and setting it aside on her bench. All fun, poorly thrown welcome parties aside, she really was curious.

"So, what exactly are you trying to achieve here?" she asked rather coldly, as he chuckled good naturedly in response.

I was just curious, I suppose." He said, taking another sip from his glass as her eyes followed his every move carefully. The tension in the room was palpable. It was like the thick silence that descended upon a battlefield, moments before the first shot was fired. The only sounds that could be heard were the faint, occasional yell from outside, scuffling of feet or pounding of the rain. Other than that, it was dead silent.

"I was looking through some of the records you see… the one about who suggested the fieldtrip, or little 'excursion', if you'd like, to the execution." He continued, studying her barely concealed surprise as the placid expression faltered for only a split second.

"Turns out… there was never any chance of any other dorm being chosen. From the very start, it was guaranteed that Maka's dorm was chosen.." Medusa's eyes widened in genuine shock and surprise. Maka? As in the Maka that had come to her, covered in glass and on the verge of passing out? That Maka? Why was she chosen?... Was she connected with him in some way?

For some odd reason, even the word Maka brought out a faint tingle of reminiscence that she couldn't quite place. Did she know that name from somewhere? It sounded… nostalgic. Like she had heard it before, and it was sitting upon the edge of her mind, just out of reach… Maka…

"And that got me thinking. Why would someone want Maka to be there? Is there some kind of ulterior motive to this whole thing?... I did some digging… searching for a weak link, somewhere in the system. The only person I found..." He was facing her now, emotionless murky green/ gray orbs staring straight into her own golden irises. "Was you."

"What do you mean by that, Stein?" She questioned, mouth tightening into a grim line as her eyes narrowed into slits.

"I looked at your file. Name – Medusa Gorgon. Age – 29. Children – 0. Occupation – Nurse. Training – Valedictorian in school, graduated at the top of your class, you got your medical degree in only a single year, getting a perfect score… Current Residence – 13, Anorhc street…"

As he finished his analysis, Medusa's eyes were widened in surprise. He memorized all of that? How?

"In all" He concluded, a smile creeping up the edges of his lips "Your record is perfectly clean…"

Almost as an afterthought, as he took yet another deep breath he added "So why don't I believe it?"

Medusa took yet another sip of her glass, avoiding eye contact with the man before her at all costs.

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"13, Anorhc street… doesn't exist. It only goes up to 12, before turning off into a main road."

Medusa smiled faintly at his explanation... there were too many holes for him to connect the dots.

"I'm still not sure what you're saying… maybe they just made a typo?" Stein smiled faintly at her response.

"Not once in the records does it mention which college you went to to achieve your various degrees. It only mentions how well you did…"

"I don-"

"It also says that you are 29 years of age, but there is no record of a birth certificate anywhere…"

Medusa was frowning now. This was bad. This was really bad. So someone had finally gotten on to her. What if she was fired from her job? What would happen to her then? How…how would she ever find her precious daughter if she didn't have enough money to search? This man…. This man could be her destroyer.

"Get to the point, Stein." She hissed, as he finished off the rest of his glass in one big gulp, before cringing slightly as the bitter liquid crawled its way down his throat.

"I looked at the police records too… You want to know something interesting? Medusa Gorgon doesn't exist..."

He looked at her seriously, for a moment, his eyes hardening as he threw his final question at her.

"Who are you... really?"

She smiled faintly.

"I'm nobody."


	16. Chrona?

**Author's Note: Oh man, this was an accident guys. I was reading another brilliant fan fiction this morning, which happened to be written in present tense. Now, I didn't do it on purpose, but when I read back over this chapter, I realized I accidently wrote it in present tense too! How do you even write a chapter in the wrong tense by accident? **

**I don't even know. Anyway, the butt end of it is that this chapter is in present tense, a completely different kind of style of writing, compared to my usual past tense. Think of it as a sort of test run. **

**Please give me some feedback about what you think of this change, whether you like it more or less, because to be completely honest, I find it easier to write in present tense than past.**

**Anyway, on to the actual story, this chapter has two very important scenes which will be used for future reference. The very last scene in the chapter, I feel like I MUST draw, so I will probably do that tonight so that next chapter, I'll have a link up for you people. ^-^**

**I want to thank bluenian98, Elayna19, Drew Secrets, and We Rock the House for reviewing last chapter. Though I only got 4 reviews, those four people are amazing and deserve a clap. **

***claps.**

**Please enjoy the read, and remember to give me some feedback about what you think about the tense change, and whether I should keep with it or not. **

**Thank you Everyone!**

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><p>Maka rips off another large chunk of her hotdog, chewing it mindlessly as she watches the brightly colored cars whizz by. She leans against the back of the - 40th? No, 50th - clothing store Liz, Patty Tsubaki and herself had ambushed that afternoon. Though Maka's participation was questionable at times as she had gotten bored of shopping after the second store, she really did feel slightly closer to the others after this experience. Tsubaki, Liz and Patty were still inside, Tsubaki was apparently trying a dress that as Maka explained would 'enhance her womanly physique to perhaps get a certain someone to look at her differently', or just as aptly described by Liz as 'Seduce the fucker!'. Anyway, they had been in the store for almost an hour, which is why Maka now sat outside, eating lunch at 5pm.<p>

She's surrounded by a pile of shopping bags (mostly for the other girls but also some for herself ) so high on each side that it looked like she had built herself a little fortress. The setting sun casts lingering shadows across the town, the red and pink hues on the horizon highlighted by the soft glow on the sun. Maka sighs to herself. It was a beautiful scene – that she could admit even to herself – but it felt like it was missing something.

Hearing a crash from inside, mixed with a chorus of shouts and laughing, Maka begins to shift uncomfortably. She has been sitting down for more than ten minutes, and the cold cobblestone street was littered with small rocks and shards of glass, all of which made it a rather dangerous place to sit. Maka begins to extract herself from the ground, careful to mind her previous wounds. She already has enough cuts on her backside; she doesn't need more on her ass. Gathering the majority of the shopping bags in hand, she totters back into the store a quizzical expression cross her features.

Glancing around the shelves lined with shoes, the rows covered in for sale signs, and the huge '50% off basket', Maka was able to judge that her friends were near the changing area of the store – because of the loud ruckus, screams and laugher echoing from that direction.

Walking over to the small changing room, veiled by only one thin piece of cloth, Maka pulls it open swiftly to reveal one of the strangest sights she had ever seen in her life. Tsubaki is half naked; her previous clothes pulled clean off while the dress she was trying to fit into covered only half her body. Liz has her hands over the dress, either trying to pull Tsubaki either in or out of the clothing, while Patty is giggling while sorting through the mountain of clothes behind her. Both Tsubaki and Liz turn their eyes towards Maka, Liz's unchanging as she continued her battle, while Tsubaki's lit up in horror.

"I-i-i-i-it's not what it looks like!" Tsubaki whispers desperately, as Liz pulled the other strap over her shoulder. Maka shrugs in response, pulling the curtain closed behind her as she took as step in. A disbelieving smile takes over Maka's features as she pats her friend on the head shortly.

"Suu-ure it's not." She purposely makes it sound like she doesn't believe a single word her friend had said, as Liz chuckles darkly in response and Tsubaki flushes crimson. Maka smiles like the cat that got the canary as Liz hands her another dress. Tsubaki begins to back away, before her only exit being blocked by Patty who is still giggling madly.

"Uh, Maka?" Tsubaki questioned tensely, preparing to bolt from the changing room if the others were planning to dress her up like some kind of Victorian doll... again. Maka takes a step forward, as muffled grunts and yelps echo through the small store.

The majority of the customers stop what they are doing to glance confusedly at the concealed changing room, not exactly sure what is going on. The commotion attracted the attention of one particular customer who had just walked into the store. The customer has a mix between pink and purple mop of hair, and it shields its wide frightened eyes from the other shoppers seeing its entire face. It stumbles towards the changing room, trembling all the way.

Maka thinks this one suits Tsubaki better. The other sort of made her look like one of the drunk floozies you always see in centre of large parties – the one who is showing just a little bit too much cleavage and had a little bit way too much to drink. The image contrasted so harshly with Tsubaki's kind, submissive personality that Maka and Liz made it their mission to rid Tsubaki of the horrendous outfit.

This time around, Maka honestly thinks that this one was made specifically for Tsubaki and Tsubaki only. The dress was longer this time, but it still was fairly low cut and with a V-shape neck. It was midnight blue, the lower half sparkling slightly as it ran down to just above her knees.

"Just add some navy blue eyeliner and a nice pair of heels, and you'll be set." Liz complements eyeing the outfit with appreciation. Even Patty smiles and pats the taller girl on the shoulder. Tsubaki doesn't quite know what to say. After being stripped down to her underwear, and dressed like a Victorian doll by the two sweetly smiling girls, she isn't really sure what to do, other than to smile and thank them.

Maka's eyes drift back to the pile behind them, her bags left forgotten. It's Liz's turn to grin devilishly, as she eyes Maka's clothing with interest. Very soon, Liz is digging through the mountain as Patty somehow sorts the clothes into spate piles. What was most surprising is that each pile was relatively neat and organized. Who would have imagined?

A second later, Liz somehow pulls out yet another dress, this one smaller and designed for someone with a more petit build. Maka breaks into a sweat as she begins to back away.

"Hold her down!" Commands Liz, as Patty moves to complete the order. Tsubaki shoots Maka a helpless look, before blocking the Thomson sister's advance, motioning for Maka to run. Maka silently thanks her lucky stars – as well as Tsubaki – for that as she literally falls backwards through the curtain and out of the room. To her surprise, she makes contact not with the ground like she expected, but with another body as it blocks the momentum. Maka turns to apologize to whoever she just literally fell into, but as she turns her brain stops functioning. Before her sits a girl - or is it a boy? Her own age, with a mess of pink hair, wide terrified eyes and a horrified expression. For some reason, the pink hair makes a strange sensation crawl in her chest. It makes her think of her nightmares – the ones in which she can't see anything and can only hear screaming.

To be honest, the pink hair frightens her.

"M-M-M-Ma-Maka?" The pink haired girl / boy stuttered in surprise, all his / her belongings fallen out of his / her hands. Maka feels funny at the sound of its voice. She feels a faint tingle of reminiscence- A faint tugging at the very edge of her mind. She feels like she should know that voice- not only because it seemed to know her, but something in her gut is telling her she knows this person. But she doesn't. She's never seen someone her age with pink hair in her life… has she?

"Sorry!" Maka apologizes, because she doesn't know what else to do. A strange expression crosses the pink haired boy's - No Maka decides it's a girl – girl's face. Something in the back of her mind tells her that it's a girl. It looks like a mix between hurt and confusion. Perhaps she did know her?

"Maka... is that really you, Maka?" The pink haired girl tries again, as Maka isn't sure what kind of action to take. The longer she stares at the girl, the more her gut clenches. For some reason it's telling her that this girl shouldn't be here. But why would she know that?

To tell the truth, Maka just felt like running home. Back to her dorm. There, she would be safe. Away from evil shopping trips, and pink haired girls that she should recognize but doesn't.

"Maka, don't you remember me?" The pink haired girl sounded different now, Maka realizes. She didn't sound as hopeful as she did moments before, but more sorrowful.

"I'm truly sorry." Maka apologized again. Maybe if she kept apologizing, the pink haired girl would leave her alone? She didn't like feeling like this. The sensation in her gut was spreading to her head. She felt slightly dizzy and lightheaded, but ignored it.

The pink haired girl looks stricken from Maka's statement, but she knows what she has done was right. She truly didn't remember this person. What good would lying do? She would probably never see her again, anyway.

"Are you alright, Maka?" Maka doesn't like how the pink haired girl seems to know so much. How did she know that she was starting to feel sick? Maybe she was going pale, and that's how the pink haired girl knew? The pink haired girl looks stressed now. She looks genuinely concerned for Maka's own health, and Maka doesn't like how the other girl looks at her.

The pink haired girl looks at her like she knows something…

Maka glances up at the other girl and immediately feels horrible for her bitter thoughts. The other girl is so stricken over her apparent health problems, she too is paling as sweat is forming on her brow.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Maka lies with ease, slapping on a fake grin of pure self confidence and standing up, offering a hand to the pink haired girl. The other girl looks relieved now. Maka wonders why.

"I'm Maka Albarn, but you already know that." Maka says, offering a hand to the other. "What's your name?" The pink haired girl shakily reaches out, barely making contact with Maka's own hand, before saying her own name in barely above a whisper.

"Chrona."

* * *

><p>Images immediately fill Maka's mind. Memories, she assumes. The first one is dark. She can't see anything, not even her hands in front of her. She can smell something, too. It smells horrible…a rancid stench. It smelt like the 'bad' alleyways, in which, when Maka would cross them holding her parents hands, they would hush her and turn away from the alley, calming it was a 'bad alley' and to never go down bad alleys. Maka hears what sounds like chains clinking together. There is another figure in the dark with her. She spots a mop of pink hair.<p>

* * *

><p>The second memory starts off dark too. Maka can't see. This time, there is a light. It looks far away, but is growing closer. A crackling sounds starts to fill her ears, followed by a chorus of loud sirens. Was it the police? The fire brigade? Both? The light is still getting bigger. It's red now, with a hint of orange and blue here and there. She feels the heat of the light now. It keeps getting hotter and hotter. Soon, it starts to burn. It hurts! Maka wants to scream, her whole back is in agony. She sees a figure run away through the flames. She can't see its face, but she can see the same pink hair from before.<p>

* * *

><p>When Maka opens her eyes once more, she is surrounded by people. There is a doctor or two, and a whole crowd. Liz, Patty and Tsubaki are all standing over her, looking worried. Maka notices Chrona is gone. Maka decides she must have passed out. She waves off all questions of concern, from both her friends and the paramedics. They say they think it would be best if she spent the night in the hospital. People don't just go fainting for no apparent reason. Maka refuses politely, claiming it was just because she forgot to drink all afternoon. The paramedics along with her friends toss her unconvinced looks, but don't badger her for details. For that, she is glad.<p>

She walks back to the dorm alone that night, seemingly lost in thought.

* * *

><p>She gets home much later than usual. Around 9:30 at night. The rest of the dorm is in their rooms, but she spots a muffin basket with a 'get well soon' card addressed to herself. She contemplates taking the basket and disappearing into her room. She decides not to, and just to take one or two back with her. As she walks to her room, she passes Soul's. The door is closed, as per usual, but she swears she heard a faint, muffled cry from inside. If it were anyone else's door, she would have thought nothing. Everyone has their bad days. But this was Soul. The self proclaimed 'always cool' wouldn't allow himself to break down. It went against everything he stood for. So what was that sound?<p>

Maka decided to investigate. Her mind was still in a slight haze from the earlier events at the shop, but she ignores it. She quietly pulls the door open a fraction, enough to see inside but not enough for the occupants of the room to notice anything amiss. Peeking through with one eye, she quickly spots his figure. He is lying on the centre of his bed, appearing almost curled up into the foetal position. Concern immediately fills her entire being. What happened to him?

She stands back up, pulling the door closed before knocking loudly.

"Who is it." Is mumbled from the other side of the door. He sounds worn out. Not physically, but emotionally. She wonders what happened to him today.

"Maka." There is a shuffling of feet before the door is swung open. He looks older than usual. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced, as there is a faint red tinge around their rims. He's in his pyjamas, which for him was just a baggy sweat shirt and sweatpants.

"Can I come in?" She asks, as he nods before moving out of her way. She makes a beeline to his bed, before taking a seat and flopping back. He glances curiously at her antics. This wasn't like her. She didn't come into people's rooms for no reason.

"So, what do you want?" He asks, shutting the door behind her before taking a seat beside her on the comfy bed. She turns to look at him. As their eyes clash, she sees something in his that she's never seen before. Every time they've locked eyes, they've always been bright crimson. Sure, when he was pissed, they seemed to almost glow, while when he was content, these tiny pale red flecks would form around the base of his iris. But now, for some reason she can see something that wasn't there before. There is a darkness to them, and she is certain it is not a trick of the light. She is truly worried.

"Are you… alright?" she asks cautiously, as he nods robotically in response. This was going to be harder than she thought. She had already forgotten how difficult it is to make him open up to her.

He gives her a once over. She looks cold, but hasn't seemed to notice just how chilled she really is. Her lips are blue, and cracked and her skin is ghostly pale. It reminds him that she wasn't in the last 2 periods of school. Where was she? She wasn't the kind of person to skip class. Though he was worried when she busted in here, he now feels calmer. Besides, why is she asking if he is alright? She seems to be the one who has been through hell and back. He however, has only had some rather disturbing mental revelations, and a reminder of the past to haunt him.

He can see as clear as day that she wants him to open up, and the wheels and cogs in her head a busy turning trying to figure out a way to make him talk. He supposes he shouldn't be the least bit offended. It is Maka, after all. He decides that he owes it to her, because of the night before. What he did was wrong. He knows that, and he hated how he seemed to get away with it. He had a guilty conscience and it constantly felt like he did something horribly wrong and still got away with it. He would rather have her beat him unconscious with a large textbook that feel this way much longer. In fact, he would rather be beaten to death with a textbook than open up about his past, either, but he felt like she deserved it.

So he decided to. He allowed all his defences to come crashing down and then looked at her. Really looked at her. For the first time, she could see all the feelings hidden in his penetrating gaze. The aching loneliness. The anxiety. The worry. The pure, undiluted fear that the situation with the execution was forcing him through.

For the first time since she had met him, he truly looked vulnerable.

"I'm scared, Maka." He admitted, his tone low as she had to lean towards him to catch what he was saying.

"Nothing is making any sense. I'm scared something bad will happen. I'm scared that someone will get hurt... I'm absolutely fucking terrified that I'll lose everything again…" Maka couldn't believe what she was hearing. All his fears… all his insecurities that he hid so well during the daytime were brought to light in the dead of night. She shifted her position, so that she was sitting right beside him, grasping his hand in her own. His hand was warm, she noticed.

"Maka... Everyone here…they're so nice. Even the moron Blackstar! I just… I'm not nice. I'm not a nice or good person... I'm an arrogant jerk most of the time… I'm not considerate! I try to be cool all the time… I just… " He couldn't finish his sentence. Admitting them to himself was hard enough, but admitting his flaws to another human being was too much. His thoughts, his feelings, and his emotions were poured into his words, as Maka accepted every last one.

"So what!" She snapped as his eyes widened in surprise "Everybody has flaws! I'm a violent bookworm remember? I'm too prideful, my ego is larger than the empire state building, I get jealous, and I'm a coward when it comes to facing my own thoughts and feelings! But so what! That is me. That is Maka. Just like..." She paused to catch a breath, panting slightly as he stared at her in shock. Slowly, she placed her right palm on his chest, right over where his heart lay. "That is you Soul. Not Soul Eater. Not Soul Evans. Just you…"

He closed his eyes, her words truly sinking in. He would never admit it, but he needed that. He needed someone to talk to, even if he wasn't digging for answers the whole time. He needed reassurance. He needed someone to tell him, not that he was the best person who ever lived, or to believe that, but to believe in him. To believe that no matter how many flaws, he was just Soul. Just... Soul.

Slowly, he raised his other arm, clasping his hand around her one that rested upon his chest.

"Thank you… Maka."


	17. Remembrance

**Author's Note: Gosh dang it!**

**I knew it would happen eventually, but I received my first flame for this story last night, and have decided that because I can't reply personally, I'll put my little rebuttal here. **

**Now, dear Flamer, in response to your rather harsh description of my story "**_**ur storys crap"**_** I suggest you back up claims like that before you make them. You go on to give reason why, stating that my writing '**_**sux**_**', and that my plot is '**_**slow and boring'**_**. Now, I can honestly see where you are coming from with the first comment about my writing. And believe me, I know this. Remember, I am only a child on this site, and writing is just a hobby of mine. I know it is not the best. And I accept that. I do try though. It's not like writing is easy for me either. It takes me about an hour to write 600 words. When you think about that, you can work out how much time it has taken me to write what I have so far for this story. This time, in comparison with the hour it took you to read it, is indescribably huge. **

**It is hard work, but I enjoy it. **

**Now, when you say that the plot is 'slow and boring' that is your personal opinion. I have spent a good amount of time designing this story so it makes you really think. Yes, it is slow in progressing, and yes I suppose it could be considered rather boring. When I read back over the things I've write, I tend to drag on and on. But there is a point to all that description. I do try very hard to drop hints for the reader who bothers to re-read things. There are many hints and clues to what is going to happen, and what is happening all through the chapters. You just have to be bothered to **_**look **_**for them. **

'_**stop fricken putting links to ur drawings its really annoying and no one cliks on them anyway'**_** Now, that is a fair statement. But, if you've noticed or read the notes I make below or above the link, they are simply scenes from the story, or an interpretation of what I think Soul and Maka look like in my story. I'm not forcing you to click on it. It is simply there if you are having trouble visualizing what a scene or character looks like. You want to know something interesting, good sir? I never wanted to be a writer. I always wanted to be an artist. But even then, I'm not good enough to be any kind of professional. I'm still mediocre at that too. But so what? One day, I'm going to get better. And then, maybe I'll write something that uses my artistic abilities, as well as my writing. And then, all of this will have been worth it.**

**Lastly, you go on the mention that I should '**_**take this crap down, ur ruining this site'**_**. Now, if you're suggesting I remove my story from the site, I honestly take offence to that. Though my story is not brilliant, there are plenty of other mediocre stories out there (not trying to be an asshole, but there are some just as average as mine out there) and by suggesting I take mine down, are you also asking every author to take theirs down as well? I am not violating any of the Terms of Agreement listed on the FanFiction site, nor am I posting offensive material. It is just a story, and taking it down from the site because one singular person did not happen to enjoy it, is plain selfishness. Even if I did take this story down, I'm sure there would be at least one person who would be mildly disappointed. And even if it is only one person who actually wants to know what happens next, I will keep writing for them. Because that is the kind of person I am. **

**I also want to say, have you ever heard of the word 'improvement'? Though I admit, my story is probably one of the worse out there, I am only a kid. I still take high school English class, and I still write for **_**fun**_**. Maybe one day, I'll get better at writing. Who knows? Then, hopefully you still won't have a reason to attack me and my story, on the basis that it '**_**sux'**_**. **

**Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for the rant everyone. I just couldn't personally reply to the flame, so I put it here. **

**Anyway, this is the third update in a row, woo! If you were bothered to actually read the above, I basically got a flame that attacked my story, myself and my writing ability. I'm trying to be civil about it, and posting a counter argument, but I am still a kid, so things like that kind of hurt my self-confidence a tiiiny bit ( a lot). **

**Anyway, as I mention above, I will continue to write as long as at least one person wants me to!**

**This chapter is also written in the present tense, because I honestly find it easier to write in. I really hope that it doesn't deter many of you from reading this story, but if it does, I am truly sorry.**

**If you don't like this story, it's not written for you.**

**I really want to thank raelynn gross, .Poisoned Scarlet., bluenian98, Elayna19, and We Rock the House for reviewing my last chapter. You people are the reason I still have a little bit of self confidence left.**

**Oh, and I said I would draw the last scene from the last chapter, so I did. Here's like link.**

http: / gone-phishing . deviantart . com/art/Maka-and-Soul-Heart-262103879

**Kill the spaces and you're good.**

**Please enjoy the read. **

**Thank you very much everyone.**

* * *

><p>They both sit in that position, hands conjoined, minutes ticking by. Soul's mind continues to wonder and process ideas and thoughts about what will happen. Each time a particularly nasty one would invade his mind, he would squeeze her hand slightly. She would return the gesture, but other than that, they both continued to stare out the window towards the full moon, lost in their own thoughts.<p>

His thoughts wouldn't leave his fears and anxiety alone. The execution was fast approaching. They had the weekend tomorrow, but it was on the Monday coming up. That was a mere 3 days away, seeing as it was now Friday night – actually, it was Saturday morning. He wonders whether something will truly go wrong there. His gut instinct tells him it will, and he briefly thinks whether the adults can feel it too.

He doesn't want to think about it. It scares him more than anyone can imagine, and he bets it scares her too. She hasn't said much, other than her earlier heartfelt speech. Every time he thinks back in it, his heart flutters slightly. He likes the feeling.

Her mind is consumed by her own weary thoughts. Who was that pink haired girl? Maka wonders whether she will ever cross paths with her again. The memories she recovered haunt her too. For some reason, fire scares her. She knows it's not a regular reaction, but even the thought of fire sends chills down her spine. She doesn't know why. She doesn't remember why. And that in itself scares her. She wants to investigate. She desperately wants to know why fire makes her feel this way.

Maka glances across to the mute boy beside her. He squeezes her hand again, his eyebrows furrow in accordance. She wonders what he's thinking about. She takes the time to gaze into his eyes once more. She's sure that it's there. The darkness is slowly growing. She wants to find out what it is, but at the same time, she doesn't. Her gut is telling her to stay away from it. So she does.

She looks away from his consuming eyes, and back towards the glowing moon.

He's scared of the future.

She's scared of the past.

She almost laughs at the notion. They're just a bunch of cowards who know how to hide their fear. Or do they? She wonders if pretending you are alright is fighting, or just running away. She hopes it is fighting. Because when you run from things, they always catch up to you. This she knows from personal experience.

The execution worries her too. She may not know as much as Soul does about it, but she knows enough to think it is a bad idea. And the fact that they are doing it for her throws her a little. She assumes that the man being executed is yet another face she has forgotten. She supposes she may remember when she sees his face. But does she want to remember?

Weariness is slowly getting to her, and she knows she will be able to stay awake for a maximum of about 5 more minutes. She doesn't tell him.

He is exhausted but can't sleep. He's not tired at all. His brain is still running 100 miles an hour, and rest at this point seems like an impossibility. He's going through every piece of evidence he has gathered so far, and attempting to piece it all together again. He's sure there's something he's missed. Somehow, a part of him knows that Maka would be able to finish the puzzle. But he refuses to ask her.

Soul can hear how her breathing is slowly lengthening, as her heartbeat begins to even out. She is falling asleep, and will probably fall asleep on top of him. He doesn't mind.

5 minutes later and she is out like a light. Soul continues to stare at her pigtails, a strange sensation crossing him, telling him to take them out. He doesn't listen to it. She confuses him like no other. She is this giant question mark. A mystery waiting to be solved. She's an enigma. And he wants to be the one to figure her out. Distracted momentarily from the problems plaguing his mind, he soon follows her into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

><p>Soul awakens to his alarm clock and its violent piercing of the peaceful air in the room. Slamming his hand on the top of it to kill the offending noise, he sits up and rubs his face vigorously with both hands.<em> Is it 7:45 already?<em> It seems like he just went to sleep. Maybe if he had slept all night, instead of staying up late drowning himself in his worries, he would feel better. He pulls back the covers and swings his legs over the side of the bed. As he does, his eyes traverse across the bed to the lump nestled comfortably underneath his blankets. So she hadn't left his room last night? The thought makes a small, involuntary smile brush across his face.

Then again, he feels better already.

He stands up and goes to get his clothes out. He has the whole day ahead of him, but can't seem to bring himself to feel disgruntled for waking up so early on a Saturday. His briefly wonders about what to do today. Perhaps him and Maka can go see a movie? If they do, he figures it'll be a Shoot' em up. He loves the action and she loves the violence. What does that say about us? Anyway, he isn't seeing any documentaries and neither one of them are into sappy-assed romantic comedies and dramas. And, Maka hates horror. So, that just leaves action.

Soul pulls of his sweatshirt, in exchange for his larger, warmer jumper. He assumes it will be colder today, and doesn't want to get chilled. He glances to his right, at the lump that is slowly inflating and deflating. A soft noise is coming from underneath the thick covers. He doesn't bother to stop the wide grin that spreads across his lips. He finally has some dirt on her! Something to tease her about that is not directly related to her chest size – seeing as after multiple encounters with said 'tiny tits' he can safely say that, that phrase is a blatant lie. He ignores how the soft snores muffled by the blanket may or may not be the cutest thing he has ever heard in his life.

He contemplates waking her. It was weird that she wasn't awake. He didn't recall a single morning in which he had woken up before her- except when she had nightmares. In fact, it was usually her who woke him early in the morning, just in time for school. Now that he thinks about it, she had been considerate enough to wake him with just enough time to get ready for the coming day, allowing him to get as much rest as possible. He supposes he owes her a thank you for that. But still, it raised the question of just how early did she regularly get up? He reckoned it was some ungodly hour, and didn't want to even consider a number that was below 7.

He decides, after minutes of contemplation, not to wake the sleeping girl. She looked worn out last night, as she probably needs the extra Z's.

He gives her a once over, before standing and going out the door to start his day.

* * *

><p>Maka wakes up and blearily blinks her eyes. As she is fully coming to, she realizes that it must be way past 5 o'clock in the morning; way past when she normally awakens. Immediately sitting up, she balls her hands and wipes her eyes. Pulling the blankets from her body, she takes a mental inventory of the situation. The sun is shining, brightly she might add. Therefore, it has been up for awhile. Soul's room faces directly East. She could actually see the bright orb through the curtains, so it must be around 9 or 10.<p>

The realization that she is in Soul's room strikes her, as she glances down at the messy bed she must have slept in. Where was he then? Did he go out and sleep on the couch? She would feel awful if that was the case. Kicking him out of his own room after barging in the way she did last night...

Later on she will apologize, but right now she's going to go to the bathroom. Her morning breath tastes like carpet. Then, she'll return to her own room and take another couple hour nap. This is the best sleep she's had in ages, as she believes that sleeping near him banishes her nightmares. Besides, it just feels wrong to waste the opportunity. Thank god it was Saturday.

_Yes, I am on my way to my first Slothful morning in a very long time._

After a curt knock from behind the door, the muffled voice of Tsubaki comes through. "Maka-chan? Are you awake? May I come in?"

_Or maybe not._

"Yes Tsubaki-chan, please, come in." Maka replies in a kind voice. The fact that Tsubaki knows she is in here, means that either the taller girl checked Maka's own room to find it empty, or Soul had told her. Either way, it didn't bother Maka in the slightest. Maybe if it was Liz and Patty wanting to barge in, it might be a different story. Tsubaki wouldn't see that she slept in Soul's bed and take it the wrong way... would she?

The taller girl enters the room slowly and then closes the door softly. She steps in front of Maka while staring at the ground and speaking shyly. "I-I-I was wondering if you were alright after yesterday… We felt horrible for what happened, so Liz and I left you a get well basket. Patty helped with the decorations." Ah, so that's why the Muffin basket had spots and a toy giraffe in it. "I just wanted to say... I'm really sorry!"

Maka's face can't hold back the smile. Ah, how could you not love Tsubaki. Maka felt a little guilty as she noticed the dark rims around the other girl's eyes. She had obviously not gotten much sleep, probably fretting over Maka's mental health. "It's fine Tsubaki, Really. I'm fine now so you don't have to worry."

The taller girl exhales in relief, as if a great burden has been lifted off her shoulders. Maka gently pats the spot on the bedspread beside her, motioning for Tsubaki to sit down with her. Tsubaki obliges instantly, plonking down beside her friend, offering a broad smile.

Maka sighs lightly, thinking back to the day before. She caused everyone so much trouble… Not only did she cost everyone their shopping trip, but she made the taller girl lose sleep over her selfish problems. Maka felt the need to apologize, and beg for forgiveness.

"I'm really sorry for ruining the outing." Maka says, as Tsubaki frowns slightly. "I also really didn't mean to worry everyone. I'm alright now, see?"

Maka holds up one of her thin arms, flexing as Tsubaki laughs at her antics. Maka smiles in return at the sound of her friend's care free laugh.

"We're all glad that you're alright, Maka." Tsubaki says, after a minute of silence after her laugher dissipated. The taller girl's eyes are far off, as if recalling some distant memory.

"We were really worried, you know. Patty thought that you died." Maka chuckles at that. "When you didn't come home, we were ready to call the police to search for you… but Liz said that you just needed time alone."

Maka's eyes widened in appreciation. She never had any idea that the elder of the Thomspon sisters was so in tune with people's emotions. Maka decided that through her rough exterior, she must really pay attention to what was going on around her.

"I'll have to thank her for that too." Maka muses, as Tsubaki nods briefly. "Is everyone in the main room?"

"Not everyone." Tsubaki replies, counting her fingers as she lists off each name, one by one. "Blackstar and Soul went 'shopping', Liz and Patty are out and they didn't tell me where they went, only to check on you. Kid is the only one apart from me still home."

Maka nods her head to the new information she has just received. She wonders what exactly Soul is doing shopping, and with Blackstar no less, but then the memory of the two strikes her and she fights back a blush. How did she forget that they were... t-t-together?

"Do you want to make a cake?" Tsubaki asks suddenly, as Maka jumps in surprise, her previous thoughts forgotten. A cake? Somehow that sounded like the best thing in the world right now. After the previous day's excitement, Maka feels the need to return some sense of normalcy and calm to her current hectic life. This much excitement in only a few days isn't good for a person.

Maka smiles broadly as she responds with an enthusiastic "Yes!"

"Okay, after breakfast we can make the cake, so that we can frost it a little later." Tsubaki continues brightly.

"Let me go to the bathroom, and I'll be down for breakfast." Maka responds warmly.

Tsubaki nods and turns toward the door. Just as she turns the door knob, she stops and looks at Maka over her shoulder. Finally, she offers, "I'm glad you came back after last night and that you are okay. I was worried about you. We are all happy that you're here."

Maka's smile is sweet and broad. This is why she loves being here. As crazy as the dorm is, it has a really warm home atmosphere. Maka replies, "I'm more than happy to be here."

Tsubaki beams and tosses back "Great, I'll see you down in a couple of minutes, Maka-chan."

"Thank you, Tsubaki." Maka answers with an endearing smile.

The taller girl walks out the door and Maka stands there, fixed to the floor.

_Where do you feel most at home?_

The answer warms her and frightens her. Here, more than anywhere I have ever been. That's kind of scary since she will have to leave at some point. She sighs. No point in letting future misery get in the way of present happiness. Turing sharply, she makes her way to the door to take care of personal needs before joining Tsubaki for breakfast.

* * *

><p>Soul walks home after spending his entire morning out with Blackstar. Brining the blue-haired boy with him had to be the worst decision he made since he insulted Maka in a library. So far, they had been kicked out of 3 stores, been kindly asked to leave from 2, and banned from ever returning to 6 others. How that was even possible in the space of a mere 4 hours was a mystery to Soul, but Blackstar always found a way. To be honest, Soul was only even looking for one particular item, which he had yet to find. Hell, he could have found it already, but been kicked out of the bloody store before he had a chance to buy it!<p>

Beside him, Blackstar was bouncing along merrily. Yes, he was literally bouncing. Soul sighs as Blackstar tosses him yet another wrapped candy. The last store they happened to ambush sold food. Needless to say, they were supplied with a year's worth of chocolate. Blackstar had already almost finished the lot.

"Let's go back." Soul growls, frustrated that his 'shopping' trip wasted precious time, wore him out and left his wallet much, much lighter than when they left. Blackstar is too engrossed with his food to notice, so Soul turns back the direction that they came.

Well, that was a waste of time he thinks to himself, as he passes yet another clothing store. Something catches his eye. Through the front window, he can spots a singular figure as well as a mop of pink hair. The sight sparks what Tsubaki told him before he left, about what exactly happened at the store with Maka. Apparently, Tsubaki and Liz saw a pink haired girl running from the scene and immediately thought the worst.

That fucker must be the same guy! Thought Soul, his anger spiking. How many people do you see walking the streets with pink hair? Besides from the description Tsubaki gave, it was pretty easy to tell. 'hard to tell which gender' No tits. Check. No womanly curves. Check. Round girlish face. Check. It must be the same guy!

Soul storms off towards the shop, Blackstar following curiously.

"It's the same fucker that caused Maka to faint yesterday." Soul snaps shortly, not making eye contact with his friend. Blackstar too, had heard what had happened to Maka this morning, and his demeanor instantly did a back flip. Instead of looking like a lazy sloth, he drops the rest of his chocolate to the ground as he stomps forward furiously - sweets left forgotten.

Blackstar may not be the closest of friends with Maka, but they get along. Though their personalities clash often, he considers her a friend. A fairly close one at that. And Blackstar is fiercely defensive of his friends. The pink-haired bastard isn't going to be able to walk when Blackstar gets through with him.

Soul rips the door open, Blackstar close behind and charges towards the blob of pink. His fingers roughly grab the girl's collar, hauling the absolutely terrified looking girl off her feet so she was face to face with blazing red eyes and sharpened white teeth.

"What the fuck did you do to Maka?" Soul growls, as Blackstar cracks his knuckles, ignoring how the duo have the attention of the whole store.

"M-M-Maka! I-Is she alright?" Pinkie stutters in response, looking like she is on the verge of fainting also.

"She passed out because of something you did to her!" Soul snarls, as an eerie silence descends upon the store. No one makes a move to stop him. For that, Soul is thankful.

"I-I-I-I didn't do anything!" Pinkie wails again, tears forming round the rims of her eyes. Soul ignores how honest the bitch in front of her sounds. She had to have done something!

"Don't fucking lie to me." Its Blackstar's voice this time, he sounds ready to kill.

"I-I swear! I didn't do anything to Maka!" Pinkie pleads again, the water round her eyes falling so rivers of tears are streaming down her cheeks.

"People don't go and just faint! What happened?" Soul roars, the trembling pink-haired girl escalating to an almost violent level. People begin to move to intervene as the confrontation is going too far. When the pink-haired girl finally answers, it is barely above a whisper and only Soul and Blackstar catch her words.

"She must have remembered."


	18. A NOT Date pt 1

**Author's Note: Aha….well, this chapter was originally meant to be a calmer and relaxing one, in stark contrast with the mystery and other elements I've focused on recently. I think I failed miserably. Well, I guess in the end, I have a mix really. There's some mystery, some theories, some cute fun fluff, and some…horror? I don't even know.**

**On Another note – Oh my gosh! You people are so supportive. I owe each and every one of you some kind of huge thank you, which is bigger than just words of paper. Unfortunately, pixels on screen are the best I can do right now, but you people are freakin' amazing.**

**A huge thanks to The-Epic-Kiwi, SAHCB, Drew Secrets, Midlina, raelynn gross, TheElementalPerson, Angelic Solitude, bluenian98, mangagirl135, vampireacademygirls and Lexxibabe for your support. Your people are absolutely terrific. (If I have spelt your name wrong, you can shoot me **_**after**_** I finish the next chapter)**

**On a completely unrelated note- I've been re watching D. Gray-man and I forgot how amazing it is. Man! I only now realize how good the actual animation quality is! It goes right over my head! Though the show itself really does get my mind to really think about things more than once. I suppose that is a good thing for an author.**

**Drop a review if you feel like it, but otherwise,**

**Thank you for taking the time to read my story, please enjoy!**

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><p>"<em>I want to remember my past<br>To see before my eyes  
>The image of my parents<br>The house in which I grew up  
>The village in which my family lived for generations<br>I don't want to remember my past  
>I fear for what my memory<br>Might bring before my eyes  
>I wonder whether I can continue my life<br>If I'll rescue from oblivion  
>What I want to recall."<em>

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><p>Soul sighs, his feet dragging behind him as he stalks home. The sun is high overhead, scorching the plains of Death city, as Soul reckons it is at least 30 degrees Celsius. Blackstar walks silently beside his friend, not having said a word since they were kicked out of the last store.<p>

The confrontation with Pinkie has left Soul both physically and emotionally drained. He doesn't think he can handle anymore secrets, unanswered questions and mysteries, and honestly believes if he is forced to cram much more in his already crowded head, it may very well explode. He just wants one day off- A singular day away from the drama, the danger and all the secrets. He wants today to be that day.

He's almost home. _Time for a shower and a nap._ He wonders what Maka did today. Then he snorts. She probably just read. Then again, he wouldn't be surprised if she slept in, considering all the drama of the past few days.

"Hey, Soul." Blackstar finally speaks up, and it is the most serious Soul has ever heard him sound. "What do you think Pinkie was talking about?"

Soul honestly doesn't know what to say. It's not right to spill secrets, but what if it could help her in some way? He is in a bad situation. He doesn't want to lie to Blackstar, but he also doesn't want to break the trust Maka has placed in him. He eventually compromises. He will tell his blue-haired friend the raw, undeniable facts that he has discovered on his own. Nothing that Maka has confided in him will be shared in the conversation, merely Soul's own thoughts and feelings on the situation.

"I really don't know Blackstar." Soul says at last, struggling to find the right words to describe the situation. "Everything's so confusing now. I don't know much, other than some bad shit went down awhile ago, and it involved Maka, the guy getting executed and a fire. I have a suspicion that Shinigami-sama and Pinkie were involved too, but other than that I'm as clueless as you are." He says, continuing his walk. Soul really hopes Blackstar can maintain his current seriousness for the whole of the discussion. This shit is important.

The duo elapses into an uneasy silence, the burden of knowledge growing heavier upon each of their shoulders.

"Pinkie said that Maka 'remembered', right?" Blackstar asks at last, eyes focused on the ground below him.

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, by saying that she remembered, implies that she had forgotten." Soul raises an eyebrow. _Yeah, and? What are you getting at?_ He questions silently.

"I'm just wondering why." Blackstar continues, as understanding crosses over Soul. "People don't just forget things. Sure, people forget every day, mundane things like where the remote for the TV is, or where you left your phone. But you don't just forget life changing situations. There has to be a reason why she forgot in the first place."

The silence has become thick and heavy now, the implications of Blackstar's words making an impact on both their trains of thought.

"Trauma?" Soul offers at last. To him it is the only plausible situation. "It's like a defense mechanism. The mind forces itself to block out, or forget unpleasant situations or experiences. I've heard about it on the news sometimes. Trauma induced amnesia I think it's called. It happened to the war veterans a lot. Either, the memories wouldn't disappear and would stay in the forefront of their mind, or just surface in the form of dreams or most often than not, nightmares. Or, the memories would be repressed, so that they are not forgotten in the usual sense, but they remain in the brains long-term memory without the knowledge of the victim."

Soul remembers the documentary vividly and in explicit detail. It is one of the few things that managed to capture his interest when the documentary was showing on TV. He hoped that it wasn't what Maka had. Because something as serious as that only happened to people who are deeply scarred by a memory or event, and he didn't even want to think about what that could mean. Besides, they only have Pinkie's word to go off of, which isn't even that reliable in the first place.

Blackstar takes the information in without a word, only a small frown is evidence of how he feels about the situation. He looks lost in thought for a moment, before his typical arrogant grin crosses his face, as his demeanor changes back to the cheery 'star' he was when he left the apartment that morning.

"Maka's a strong girl. She'd beat your ass for talking like she's some old lady with memory problems."

Soul doesn't stop the laugh that escapes him at the absurdness of Blackstar's statement. Though he had hoped to keep the conversation serious for a little longer, so he could perhaps figure at least one bloody thing out, he is also glad that the depressing air has been lifted. He remembers that it is his day off. He can worry about all this shit tomorrow. Today, he is going to enjoy himself.

He breaks into a run, Blackstar following with a wide grin. "I'll beat your slow ass back to the dorm." Soul challenges. Blackstar, never one to be outdone agrees in a heartbeat, as they both race off towards the dorm.

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><p>They have entered Shibusen and are nearing their dorm. Blackstar is in the lead hardly breaking a sweat, while Soul feels like his legs have been run over by a truck. Good god, did Blackstar workout every day for more than 4 hours? By the way Blackstar was running, Soul bet he did.<p>

Soul reaches the gate a minute behind his blue-haired companion, as he unlocks if before hearing a scream come from his dorm. That's Maka's voice! His heart starts beating wildly. If someone is hurting her he will absolutely kill them. He bounds up the steps, crashes through the door and…and… _what the fuck?_

Maka is on the floor, Tsubaki is perched top of her, leaning over menacingly, covered in flour and is she…_tickling her_? From his position, he can see Maka has a small mustache made out of frosting, and he can see that Tsubaki has what looks like clumps of chocolate matted in her hair. Maka's face is super red, and they are both laughing.

Soul notices Blackstar leaning against the wall beside him, watching the show. He faintly hears sobbing coming from the couch. Craning his neck around, he catches a glimpse of a curled-up death the kid. He too, is covered in the white flour with what appeared to be egg yolk dripping down his hair.

There is a mixture of egg, flour, butter and milk and chocolate coating the floor, which leaves Soul to try – and fail horribly- to comprehend what the hell is going on. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a small globule of drool drip from Blackstar's wide open jaw. Soul doesn't even have to wonder what he finds so amusing. Maybe it's the fact that two girls are essentially wrestling on the kitchen floor? Maybe it's the fact that Soul had a sneaking suspicion the blue haired boy may or may not like his childhood friend more than he should. That is precisely why Soul doesn't want to turn back to the scene. If Maka caught him staring, she would beat him with a textbook so hard, that all the important evidence he has been gathering would fall out. He hears a thump from the other direction, and against everything he has told himself, he turns to look.

Maka somehow has the upper hand now. She's now straddling Tsubaki, leaning directly over the taller girl's face and trying to push a clump of brown cake towards her face. Tsubaki is struggling but can't seem to get free. Soul can't seem to take his eyes of the sight. Maka exerts slightly more force to try and gain the advantage, and in doing so it forces her line of sight upwards slightly. When her emerald green iris' meet Soul's own, she gets the best 'deer in headlights' look he has ever seen in his life.

Probably because she came face to face with two drooling boys, their eyes both feasting on the sight before them. Soul can't check whether or not saliva has escaped the cavern of his mouth. When he feels it trailing down his chin, he offers her a sheepish smile.

Maka is slowly turning the color of a tomato. It isn't long before Tsubaki notices how distracted Maka is. Slowly, she follows the other girl's stare, to find both Blackstar and Soul frozen and drooling. Tsubaki instantly flushes to a bright red. Soul has a blush staining his own cheeks, and Tsubaki thinks she can see a drop of blood about to fall from his nose. Blackstar is still frozen, and Tsubaki swears she can actually see stars in his eyes.

The absurdity of the situation descends upon Maka, and it is all she can do to fall over and off Tsubaki in a fit of laughter. The taller girl soon follows her friend, and pretty soon they are both rolling around on the messy floor, clutching their sides.

The sight is so rare and so humorous, that Soul begins to laugh as well. And pretty soon, he is laughing as hard as they are.

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><p>After lunch and that damned failure of a '<em>cake'<em> Maka gets out of her previous nights clothes, takes a shower and gets dressed. Soul had told her, in a record amount of words too, that they would be seeing a movie later. (He said something along the lines of 'movie, down in 20') Now, regularly Maka would hit him for not considering her opinion in the matter, but as she is still getting over the embarrassment of being caught in the cake mishap, she agreed without argument. _Besides_, she thinks, _a movie sounds nice_. She really wants to relax, even if it is just for a little while. That is exactly what Tsubaki was trying to get her to do, when their 'cake making' turned into a food fight of epic proportions. She thanked the taller girl in her own way, by cleaning up the ruined dorm without complaint. Though Tsubaki helped with the work, Maka did the majority with a smile, glad to have her mind free and clear.

By now, it is almost 2 in the afternoon. Maka pulls her hair up into pigtails and puts on a pair of jeans the girls helped her pick out the other day. She puts on a pink cowl sweater and black flats. She surveys herself in the mirror. Not too shabby. Her tummy is flat and she has somewhat of a feminine shape. Why does she even care? This is _Soul_. He doesn't put in her the category with girls, as well as the fact that she is sure he was into the other gender. So what is her problem?

Her problem is last night did something to her that she can't explain. The pit of her stomach was on fire. She has never felt it before. Ever. It was amazing. She could swear she felt it on the kitchen floor as well. _C'mon Maka this is Soul._ Still, she wishes that maybe one day he could see her differently. She sighs. At least she looks presentable. She grabs a few items before heading out to join him.

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><p>Soul paces in the living room. <em>This is just a movie with your friend<em>. Nothing more. Why, then, does his stomach feel very, very sick. His scowl is at its fullest. _What is wrong with me?_ He wears his dark washed jeans, a black, ¼ zip sweater and dark sneakers. His white t-shirt shows underneath. _What is taking her so long?_ Fuck, he hates feeling like this. This is terrible. Would she just get out here? _Why is this making me so crazy?_ _If she doesn't get down here in the next minute, I am going to go up there and…and…wow._ Maka's jeans contour to her perfectly. Her sweater fits her closely, but not skin tight. She really looks like a girl. _A very good looking girl._

Maka comes out of her room, a bounce in her step. She strides directly towards the door, before turning back to him. "You ready?"

He nods dumbly in affirmative. His eyes are fixed on her…um.._posterior._ He has to shake himself. This is Maka. If she caught him staring, she would kill him.

As they step out of the dorm, 2 pairs of eyes watch them go.

"100$ says they end up together." Pronounces Blackstar as he watches them leave together. Though Tsubaki berates him for his words, she can't help but agree.

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><p>"Eat up 13!" Yells a gruff voice. Its owner is clothed in standard prison guard uniform, and armed with a handgun. The past days meals have remained uneaten. Though personally, the guard would prefer it if the monster who lived in that cell starved to death, the fact that the meals were simply left there was causing a quake of fear to run up his body. The guard doesn't want to approach the cell. He was usually able to convince the new recruits to feed the prisoner, but none were on duty at this time. The guard sighs, slowly and cautiously approaching the cell. He turns his flashlight on, and it flickers slightly.<p>

_The batteries and running low_ the guard thinks to himself with a frown. He would prefer not to be left alone in the dark with this monster. He can hear the endless buzzing of the swarm of flies that live and thrive in the darkness. The cell is just around the bend now. He can smell the putrid stench that accompanies venturing this far into the prison. It smells like a combination of blood, decay and rotting flesh. It smells like _death_.

He is only steps away now. His flashlight flickers again. This time, it doesn't come back on.

"Shit!" The guard curses lightly, frustrated that no matter how much he tries, he can't stop his entire body from _trembling_.

"T-Thirteen! I'm warning you! Eat your bloody food or you'll get another beating!" He threatens. It s a blatant lie and the both know it. This particular prisoner doesn't get beating like the rest. Why? Because the guards are too _scared_. Unlike the rest, it didn't scream in pain, or beg for mercy. It simple _smiled_ at you. None of the guards went near it, unless forced to. Because no matter how cruel they could be, no matter how determined or brave they were, they were still _human_.

The guard took another step.

He stood directly in front of the cell now. He still couldn't see anything. There was no movement. Even the buzzing of the flies had stopped. Absolute silence had never been so loud before. Pure terror filled the guard's body. He could smell rotting flesh. It smelt _recent_.

Something shifted.

The guard collapsed.

He even never saw the metallic glint of a key, before it was too late.

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><p>That night, the monster feasted.<p> 


	19. A NOT Date pt 2

**Author's Note : Oh no, the end of the holidays is coming up and therefore I won't have nearly as much time to write. That means updates will go back to being once or twice a week on the weekends. Sorry guys, but I have exams coming up.**

**This would have been out last night but real life ambushed me again. So, this is slightly longer than normal to make up for it.**

**I want to thank Angelic Solitude, Midlina, The-Epic-Kiwi, raeylnn gross, We Rock the House, bluenian98, vampirelover310 and New Neon for your wonderful reviews. You guys really make my day.**

**I forgot to add last chapter, but finally! I reached the big 50,000 word mark, as well as the 10,000 hits. :D *cheer**

**Please drop a review if you have time, but if not, I hope you enjoy the read.**

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><p>When they get to the movie theater, they look up at the marquis and try to decide what to watch. Maka is deep in contemplation. She hasn't seen a movie in a very long time. There aren't any Documentary movies, but there is a one based off a real life event. She can work with that. Even still, there is that action movie. The poster makes it look like something gets blown up. She could really like that, too. She wonders what he's thinking.<p>

He wants to see the action movie, hands down; no bullshitting. He can see her forest green orbs dart from one movie to the other.

"So, what do you want to go see?" He asks, as she frowns lightly. After some serious though, she decides with the action movie. She knows he would enjoy it, and besides he would complain the whole way through if she forced him to watch the 'mild documentary'.

"The action one looks alright." She offers, as he nods in response. He smirks inwardly. Called it.

Right after they get the tickets, they go to the concessions stand, get a few snacks and a large soda. They put the items in the seat between them and sit comfortably through the movie. Occasionally, their hands will brush in the popcorn bucket, but for the most part, they keep to themselves. When the movie is over, they walk outside and she begins rubbing her arms.

They pass a souvenir store on their way out, when she claims that she needs to go to the bathroom. He nods as she walks off, transfixed with the hoodie on display in the front window of the shop. It is white with navy blue arms, and it looks incredibly warm. He isn't stupid. He saw how she was shivering slightly as they stepped out. Printed across its centre, was the neat black text of 'If _you're not part of the __**solution, **__you're part of the __**precipitate.**_**'** Now, Soul had no clue what that actually meant. But it had long words. And sounded nerdy. Hence, she'd understand and therefore like it, right?

This is an item of practicality which she will appreciate. He detests the idea of going into the store after leaving the street empty so if Maka came back, she wouldn't be able to spot him, but he figures he'll be in and out pretty quickly.

Once inside, he goes to the rack, picks out a medium size hoodie and puts it on the counter. The sales person looks up.

"Is this everything for you sir?" The girl asks.

Soul answers tersely, "Yes."

"Is this for your girlfriend?" the girl asks.

Soul fights tooth and nail to wrangle the blush that threatens to stain his cheeks at her question. He will _not_ under any circumstances blush because of what a complete stranger says.

"friend." He corrects, his cold and aloof expression in place.

"Well, if this is for your friend, I am curious to know what you would get your girlfriend." The girl chuckles.

Soul's eyebrows furrow. He has never ever considered getting anyone – not to even mention a girlfriend- a gift. Wait, no this isn't a gift. This is a practical item.

"Your total is ¥5462.60."

He hands her cash, before tucking the hoodie into his backpack and leaving. He is in and out of the store in less than five minutes. He doesn't need all day to shop. He gets in, gets his shit, and leaves. Too bad most girls don't understand the concept.

As he walks out, she is already standing and waiting for him. She silently questions his actions, as he swings his bag forward and grabs out the hoodie. Shoving it toward her, he says, "Here, put this on."

She looks at it and admires it. She really, really likes it. The joke is clever and makes her chuckle slightly. She wonders where he got it from. "Soul, who's is it? It's really nice and I would feel awful if something happened to it." She says, regretfully.

"No, it's…it's yours. I got it for you, just now, because it's getting colder and you don't have a jacket. And since it had some nerdy shit on it, I thought you might like it." He delivers shyly while looking away with pink cheeks.

Maka smiles sweetly. "Thank you. I love it. It is the best gift I've gotten in a long time."

"Meh, no problem. I thought it would be useful." He replies uncomfortably. His face is getting redder by the minute. He is not used to words of gratitude.

Maka puts it on and zips it. It's a little big but is perfect for going over her sweater. It is soft, fuzzy and the words on its front make her smile. She bets he has no clue what it means.

As she rubs her arms and snuggles into the sweatshirt, she feels instantly warmer. Her eyes sparkle as she gazes into his. "It doesn't matter. Practical gifts are always appreciated." She looks at the ground and speaks softly with an in demure smile. "It was kind of you. Thank you, again, Soul."

Scratching the back of his head while looking at the ground himself, he smiles bashfully. With his eyes and voice softened, he responds, "You're welcome." He takes a breath and looks back up to her. "You wanna get something to eat?"

Her eyes meet his and she answers with a warm smile, "I could go for an Onigiri."

He nods quickly. "Blackstar showed me a good place. Come on."

As she turns to face the direction that he is intending to walk, he puts his hand on her back and leads her down the sidewalk.

_If she wants to call it a gift, then, it's okay._

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><p>They walk down the street, two blocks, and into the all night restaurant. Maka's eyes become the size of saucers. The place is literally full of people. The restaurant is brightly lit and is buzzing with activity. The blue and green interior is energizing and calming at the same time. As they near the counter, Maka is astonished at all of the options. She almost can't decide what to get. <em>These eateries are so amazing.<em>

Soul looks down at Maka and wants to chuckle. She looks like she opened the bike she wanted for Christmas. Her head seems to be darting around the room, trying to take everything in, as her pigtails swings harshly from side to side. Her gorgeous eyes are shining and her face is absolutely glowing. This is one of the reasons he picked this place.

Moving his hand from her back to yank on the aforementioned hair appendage, he gains her attention. Looking up at him expectantly, she says, "Yes?"

Poking her in the forehead with his index finger and smirking, he answers, "What do you want to order?"

Both of her eyebrows go up in a silent, 'Oh', she responds, "I'll take the Onigiri with Shiozake and some tea with honey."

Raising his eyebrows, he concurs, "That actually sounds good. I think I'll actually have that too."

He orders, pays and leads the duo to the seating area. "Where do you want to sit?" He asks.

Her eyes light up like glowing gems, as she points excitedly to outside seating area. He smiles before nodding and heading outside.

Her face smiles widely as she walks quickly through the door to outside seating. The only thing that slows her is the fact that he is holding on to her hood. When they get to the seat, the boy instructs her, "Stay here while I go get our food. I'll be right back."

She nods and turns her head towards the sidewalk with the smile still on her face. "I'll keep myself entertained."

He returns her gesture before heading back inside to collect their order.

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><p>Maka sits in her chair, swinging her legs. The wind is blowing softly and the streetlights aren't too bright. It's a calm evening with lightly cloudy skies. She rests her elbow on the table with her chin in her palm. This has been the best evening she's had in a very long time. She really does enjoy his company. They can talk about stupid things, serious things or nothing at all. For many, silence is deafening, but for them, silence can also be telling. Tense silence was when one of them was angry or holding something back. Comfortable silence is what they had tonight, on some occasions, and it was fine. She is really appreciative of the sweatshirt. It's something that she would pick out for herself. Her smile becomes soft. <em>He knows me<em>.

It's funny. All of his glaring and cold words cover how adorable he can be. She absolutely loves his smiles. The goofy ones are her favorites. When he wears that one, in particular, it makes her insides all warm and tingly because he saves that one for when he's genuinely happy. She wishes she could see it more often. If only he could be happier more often. She chuckles softly. Even if he is happy, most people wouldn't know. If he catches himself trying to smile, he squelches it. Immediately. She knows it has to do with 'being cool'; whatever that is. Still, the shy smile…that one…there is something in it that makes her bashful as well. Just thinking about it makes her cheeks pink. What is it about that one that makes her chest pound?

_He makes me feel…weird._

Suddenly, her eyes go wide.

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><p>Chrona's eyes dart desperately in and out of the crowd surrounding her. They continued to jostle, bump and push her around as they walked past her. She was lost again. Mother had disappeared from her sights, and she was trying to regain her bearings.<p>

"Oi! Watch it!" A man snaps from above as he to roughly shoves her aside. She is scared. Only once has she been outside without the company of her mother, and that one time, she was ambushed by a scary looking evil man, with red eyes and sharp teeth, and his counterpart who looked like he was going to kill her. Chrona had been ready to faint. She would have, too, if not for the fact that they said they knew _Maka_ of all people.

Chrona had had enough heart attacks for one week. First she finds out that Maka is not only alive and well, living in high society, but she doesn't _remember_ her.

_Who was it, who said they would never forget me?_ Chrona remembers with a sad smile as another person finally pushes her out of the bustling streets. _That was you, wasn't it…Maka?_

Suddenly, the Chrona makes eye contact with the last person she expected to see- the centre of her thoughts who was sitting alone in the cold.

She should have been paying attention instead of daydreaming, because she can now see the very last person she wanted to see heading toward her. She wants to run, but knows she has already seen her when she yells "Maka!"

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><p><em>Shit. I did not want to deal with this tonight.<em> She sighs. This is what she gets for thinking about how nicely the evening was going. In less than a minute, everything has gone straight to hell. Maka has no idea what to say to the pink-haired girl. She doesn't know what unsettles her so much about Chrona's presence, but something deep inside her gut warns her to stay away.

She knows it is not at all fair to the pink haired girl… but the memories scare her. She doesn't _want_ to remember why somebody was screaming. Why she was hurting so much. Why she saw the other girl running away. She is content with her life at this moment. She doesn't need, nor does she want to remember, so why must the pink haired girl insist on showing up everywhere?

Maka sighs. "Hey, Chrona." She is being unfair again and she knows it. Maka offers her a seat politely, and the other girl accepts it graciously.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" Chrona asks, eyes wide in childish curiosity. Maka is beginning to wonder why her gut is waging war against her mind. Her brain is telling her that Chrona is harmless, while her gut is insisting that she be careful. She doesn't know which to trust.

"I'm not alone. Soul's in there, grabbing some dinner." She explains as Chrona nods. "What about yourself?" Maka asks as Chrona begins to stutter in response, rubbing her hands together shyly.

"I- I- I got lost. I can't find mother." Chrona explains in a worried tone. Maka is truly surprised at how…young Chrona looks at that moment. Her eyes are large and watery, her lip is upside down and sticking out in a pout, and she is shaking from the chilled air biting into her skin. Maka cannot honestly believe she thought this girl was dangerous!

"I'm so sorry to hear that. I'm sure if you check where you last saw her, she'll be waiting for you. I'm sure she's very worried." Maka says, as Chrona drops her head at the words, as if Maka had just struck her.

"M-Mother doesn't wait. S-she probably left me…" Chrona stutters, tears now trailing down her cheek.

"I-I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sure she'll wait for you…she's your mother. She loves you, right?" Maka's words seemed to make the poor girl collapse even more. Her sniffles and sobs were growing louder with each passing moment.

"I don't know how to deal with this." The pink haired girl seems to be chanting to herself, endlessly.

"Hey, are you alright?" Asks Maka worriedly, shaking the other girls shoulder forcefully. Maka feels truly concerned for the other's wellbeing. What is wrong with the relationship between mother and daughter? Why did Maka see _fear_ in Chrona's eyes when speaking of her very own mother?

In a split second, Chrona's eyes open wide in something akin to pain, as her sobs abruptly cease. Blank eyes drift over Maka, before staring listlessly at the darkened street. "I have to go." Announces the pink haired girl, as sits Maka sits there, varying amounts of confusion and hurt playing across her face.

Chrona was leaving. She got what she wanted. So why did it feel so empty?

Chrona walks off, disappearing into the darkness a moment later as Soul comes out holding the food.

"Something happen?" He asks seeing the confused and hurt expression on Maka's face. She turns away from the ally to the meal sitting before her.

"No" she paused, looking back into his scorching eyes once more, finding the comfort she needed. "Nothing."

* * *

><p>Neither Maka nor Soul hear the muttered "I'm so sorry…" That echoes only once through the dark alley.<p>

* * *

><p>They finish their dinner 20 minutes later, and head off towards the dorm. After a few steps, he uses his opposite hand's finger to poke her in the ribs. After a surprised shout, she elbows him back. He bumps her over with his hip. She bumps him back. He lifts his leg behind her to kick her in the rear. She does an abrupt stop and pokes him in the belly button. He jumps, grabs his stomach and they stare silently at each other for a couple of seconds. Suddenly, she breaks into a run with him directly behind her. She attempts to cross the street when he grabs her by the waist and lifts her off of the ground. The girl is screaming, kicking and laughing into the distance as he swings her so that he can catch her legs and carry her behind him. His other hand moves to hold her under her arms for support and he continues to walk as she laughs at him.<p>

A pair of cerulean blue eyes watches in silent fury as they go.

After a block of walking, Maka has to ask, "Don't you think you should put me down?" She knows that they look utterly ridiculous. She's hanging sideways like a rag doll.

Soul chuckles and answers, "Nope."

"Why not?"

He looks down and to his right, directly into Maka's eyes and smirks. "Because, I don't want to." That much is true. He really doesn't want to put her down. Firstly, she's very light and secondly…he just doesn't want to.

She raises her right brow. "Aren't you worried about your reputation? Being _cool?_ What if someone sees us?"

He shrugs, before smiling at her. Honest to god smiling. Not bitter, not proud, not accomplished. A smile of genuine _happiness_.

"I don't care."

Her heart skips a beat.

* * *

><p>They reach the gates of Shibusen in no time. The sun has long gone down, leaving an eerily large moon sitting ominously in its wake. Though Maka usually adored the sight of a full moon, tonight it sent chills down her spine. Her heart begins to pound.<p>

She somehow feels incredibly vulnerable right now. She reaches for Soul's hand, clasping it tightly in her own. He turns a pretty shade of pink at her actions, oblivious to the inner terror grasping her soul. She pulls him along at an increased pace, their footsteps the only sound that could be heard. Abruptly she stops and looks around.

Soul can't help but question her sanity. She bends down, letting his hand slip out of hers, as she gets on all fours, leaning towards the gutter. She is almost touching is the ground with her ear, before her eyes go wide.

"It stopped." She says, as he worriedly helps her up.

"What stopped?" Soul asks in confusion. Maka looks around helplessly, before grabbing his hand once more and heading towards the dorm.

"Don't worry… I just thought I heard flies buzzing from under that crate."

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><p><em>Neither of them ever realized just how close they came to death that night.<em>


	20. The Misadventures of Liz and Patty

**Author's Note: This chapter takes place in **_**during**_** 17, 18, and 19. Though it doesn't involve Soul or Maka, it is absolutely crucial to the plot. **

**The reason why this took so long to come out? Simple. I'm horrible at writing Liz and Patty. I really did try my hardest to keep them in character. The problem with them is if I write Patty like how she acts the majority of the time in the anime, I'm giving the impression that she is dumb and too innocent. Now, I do want her to have that kind of childish personality in my story, but I also want to divulge deeper into the side of Liz and Patty that we only see in flashbacks. Who they were **_**before**_** they met Kid and the rest. This chapter attempts to deal with that, so keep it in mind when you're reading it.**

**Lastly, this last week in all has been review heaven. Thank you, thank you, thank you Alik Takeda, bluenian98, Review, Unknown, We Rock the House, Midlina. Cheers to you all!**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Soul Eater in any way.**

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><p><strong>UNHOLY<strong>

**1.**not holy; not sacred or hallowed.

**2.**impious; sinful; wicked.

**3.**_Informal_. dreadful; ungodly

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><p>"Hey sis, where are we going?" She shorter of the Thomson sisters asks curiously. The duo had left the dorm early in the morning, because Liz said she needed to find something. Patty agreed readily to accompany her sister on the 'finding something' quest. Patty would have liked to drag Kid along with them, because he is really good and finding things, but Liz had quickly shushed her telling her to pretend this was a secret mission, and that nobody could know what they were doing.<p>

They were in an airport now. Armed with 2 plane tickets, Liz storms into the airport foyer Patty trailing behind curiously.

"We're going back home to find something, Patty." Liz answers tersely, queuing in the exceedingly long line to the check in_. Back home? Does she mean all the way back to Brooklyn_? Patty thinks to herself.

"Why sis?" Patty asks, leaning on the ropes that formed the outline for the ticket lines. "And how did you even get the money? I didn't think you had much left after that shopping trip?"

"Kid lent me some." Liz replies, handing her duffle bags to the checkout lady at the counter. "He was against it at first, but then I explained _why_ we need to go back there." Patty's eyebrows furrow as the lady at the counter wishes them a good day and Liz grabs her hand, pulling her towards the security check.

"As for why, you remember that pink-haired girl?" Patty nods as they pass under the metal detector, both walking out clean and heading off towards the boarding gate.

"Yeah." Patty answers with clenched fists. That girl was in for it if she ever spotted her again. Though she had never really talked solely with Maka, she spent enough time around her to understand how she works. And for Maka to actually faint, meant that something _big_ had to have happened. Because Maka Albarn didn't just faint.

Liz glances down at her sister's thoughtful look, and thinks she can see the wheels and the cogs turning inside her sister's head. Patty was much, much smarter than she was given credit for. She was observant too. Like the night where they left Maka to walk home alone so that she could collect her scattered thoughts. It was Patty's idea. Not Liz's.

"I think I remember Pinkie from somewhere, sis." Patty speaks at last, as they finally reach the gate. "She seems familiar to me." Liz nods. That is her reason for doing this.

If both her and her sister recognize someone here in Death City, it means that they were once in Brooklyn. Now, it could all be a coincidence, and turn out that both she and Patty didn't actually recognize the girl after all. But Liz refuses to squash her theory so easily. Besides, if it turns out that they don't recognize her, then it's a day wasted and a fair portion of Kid's wallet. _But._ If it turns out that they _do_ know her, then there was a highly likely chance she either was someone dangerous, or in the very least connected with someone dangerous.

The loss of 24 hours and a weekly allowance is a small price to pay for your life.

They board the place, hand in hand to stop them from getting separated by the crowd that continues to jostle and bump them. There is a man of average complexion behind Patty that continues to 'accidently' bump into her and she is getting sick of it. His sweaty, plump palms have made contact with her shoulder and back at least 4 times and she swears that if he does it again, the end result will _not_ be pretty. A life on the streets in her younger years has left the Thompson sisters with knowledge that they are admittedly not proud of; How to punch so that you break someone's bone with minimum effort, _Where_ to hit so that your enemy goes down as fast as possible, How to use _any_ available object to cause serious harm to the attacker. If he touches her again, she will not hold back. He will learn firsthand how knowledgeable she is on 'how to break bones.'

It's when he 'accidentally' falls, and has to use her butt to 'cushion his fall' that she snaps, decking him in the face. Liz turns around in shock, along with the majority of the crowd surrounding them, as the man now on the floor, clutches his jaw in relative agony. Liz almost feels sorry for the poor bugger. _Almost_. She had seen what the fucker was doing, and was only seconds away from taking the same course of action as her sister. Though she knows the strength of her sister's punch, and how hard she can hit, she thinks the man got what was coming to him. _Asshole._

A few of the other passengers toss them sympathetic looks – well at least those who saw the way the man was treating them beforehand. Those who didn't shuffled away frightened, telling their children to stay well clear of them.

Patty doesn't honestly care who is watching. She is going to drill it into this pervert's brain that molesting girls in public is _not okay._

"Let me warn you, asshole." She snarls at the man rolling around on the ground, stomping her foot down inches away from his face resounding in a loud bang, shocking him out of his pain. "If I _ever_ see you doing that again to _anyone_.." She trailed off, lifting her foot and maneuvering it so that it was hanging precariously over his crotch. She slammed her foot down, coming within a cat's whisker of the edge of his jeans. The man gulped audibly scrambling to his feet and stumbling away, dignity in shreds. Patty turns away with Liz in the lead, the two walking off towards their assigned seats.

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><p>Six and a half hours, 24 cans of soft drink, 2 manicures and a pedicure later, they touch down at the JFK international airport.<p>

Patty is up and out of her seat while the pilot is still telling everyone to 'remain seated'. Liz sighs, and follows after where her sister.

They are out of the airport in no time. Though Patty had insisted on getting lunch – well, a meal that counted for both lunch and dinner, they ended up with an armful of junk food, as well as some souvenirs. By the third shirt saying 'I 3 New York' Liz had to drag Patty out of the store.

They stand together at the taxi bay, Liz taking deep breaths with a smile on her face. "I know it sounds weird, but I missed the air here. The smoke, gas and smog…ah, just gotta love it." Patty tilts her head in confusion, _was she being sarcastic or not?_

"It smells like home, is what I'm saying." Liz elaborates, as Patty agrees silently with a nod.

A taxi pulls up a second later. The man steps out, bowing slightly, kindly taking their bags, and opening the door for them before heading back into his own seat. The sisters scrambled into the taxi, pulling the door shut behind them as the man turned to face them.

"Where to?" he asks, as Patty looks at Liz for the answer.

"The Hive." The taxi driver gasps, giving them a once over before starting the vehicle. The Hive was one of the most infamous nightclubs in the entire city. It was a hornets' nest for drug dealers, mobsters and criminals in general.

The driver couldn't believe these two seemingly innocent girls were headed a place like that. He starts the car, sweat beading his brow and hands shaking. Looks can be deceiving. If they really _are_ from a place like that, he will do whatever they say. It doesn't matter if they don't pay. It doesn't matter if they're loud and make a mess. The taxi driver has a wife and kids waiting for him. He doesn't want to go home with a bullet through his skull.

The 45 minute drive is filled with a tense silence. The driver is attempting to concentrate on driving, but can't stop imagining the feel of the cold steel of a gun being pressed to the back of his head. Neither girl has said a word since they entered the vehicle. If he actually looked behind him, he would see one of the sisters, drawing animals with crayons, and the other one attempting to pluck an eyebrow. But he didn't. So to him, he was carrying in his backseat two insane, psychotic murderers, instead of the regular teenage girls that they were.

As the sisters get out of the car, and grab their belongings from the trunk, the driver speeds off before they have a chance to thank or pay him. He just wants to get the hell away.

"Well, wasn't he a nice guy." Liz remarks, as Patty giggles at her sister's statement.

The sun is gradually descending in the sky. It is 4 fifths of the way down, so that the pink and orange hue is already forming as it slowly begins to set. The orange light casts and ominous shadow over the building in question.

The building before them is literally humming with the music blasting from inside. Bright lights flash repeatedly from inside, and a chorus of shouts, yells and screams can faintly be heard.

Liz takes another deep breath, before walking confidently towards the entrance. Patty follows silently, absorbed by the scenery, and the memories they brought to the surface – the only reminders of a past long forgotten.

As the duo enters the room, every eye in the area is focused on them. Some reach for their hidden weapons, fearing the intruder may be some sort of cop. Others turn back to what they were doing after realizing it was just a couple of chicks. Finally, the ones who recognized the once feared sisters completely halt what they are doing, and slowly approach from the sidelines. Liz ignores the more than curious stares, as well as hateful glares sent their way. She makes a bee line towards the bar tender, Patty in tow.

"This is no place for two girls like you." The bartender says gruffly, grabbing each by their scruff and pulling them behind him.

"You're going to have to come with me.." He says, watching in satisfaction as the other customers have long stopped paying attention.

"Why are you two actually here? I thought you were off, living the good life?" He remarks snidely tossing them to the floor behind the counter. Liz's head cracks against the wooden counter, as she attempts to soothe the oncoming headache. Patty is ready to tear the guy limb from limb for hurting sis.

"We just have to see the boss, one last time." Liz explains, brushing herself off while holding Patty back from killing the man.

"Ex-boss, bitch. You ditched us remember, and ran off with some pretty-boy!" He spits, glaring heatedly at the pair.

"I'm sorry, Ragnarok. I really didn't mean to lea-" Liz tries to explain, before being cut off.

"Shove it. That's a god damn lie and you know it.." The man seems to be having an inner debate, as once every while he will curse and kick the floor, before losing himself in thought once more. Eventually he appeared to come up with a solution. He leans down to the floor, carefully removing three of the floorboards and pointing to the newly opened passage.

"Deathscythe is down there. Now get out of my fucking sight."

"Thanks." Liz says quietly after being pushed into the small tunnel. The crash of the floor boards being mashed into place was the only response she got.

Holding Patty's hand all the way, the duo traveled down. Down, all the way down the tiny concrete steps until they reached what appeared to be a heavy wooden door. There were metal bars barricaded over the front, as well as scratches on the wood, and bullet indentations. The door looked like it had been through hell and made it back in one piece – sort off.

"Liz… are we going to ask boss 'bout her?" Patty questions, staring listlessly at the door in front of them.

"Yeah Patty…he would know if Pinkie has been through the system." Liz explains, lightly rapping on the blockade before them. A singular pair of footsteps echoes throughout the dark hall, as the heavy door slowly swings open. They barely take a step, before a multitude of knifes, guns and clubs were inches away from their throats.

"It's Liz and Patty. We need to see the boss." Liz says without a shred of emotion, pushing the knife away from her jugular without the slightest hint of fear.

The men surrounding them slowly lower their weapons, before who looked to be the leader grabbed Liz's arm roughly, pulling her towards yet another heavy wooden door.

"Boss. We have two deserters here to waste your time." He snarls, before ordering the rest of the men to leave. As they shuffle out, Liz rubs her arm tenderly. Already, blotchy dark purple and green bruises were beginning to form from how hard he clenched her arm.

"I'm gonna fuck that guy up if I see him again." Patty snarls, at seeing the damage to her sister's arm.

"Liz and Patty, I'm assuming?" A deep, masculine voice filters out from underneath the door. Liz nods, before realizing that the boss couldn't actually see her.

"Yeah, it's us." Patty glances at her sister worriedly. Spending so much time at the dorm, with regular people like Kid and Tsubaki had really worn off on the sisters. Even keeping up the charade of being like the rest of the criminals was becoming a difficult task for the eldest Thompson.

"What do you need?" the voice asks, its tone airy and light

"I need to ask you a question" Liz starts, her eyebrows furrowed and jaw set tight. Beside her, Patty worriedly pats her on the shoulder in some semblance of comfort.

"My my!" His voice was much higher now, light and joking in a stark contrast to the very first tone he spoke in. "What is this? Are you possibly coming on to me-"

"Shut your trap you womanizing bastard." Liz hisses, shaking a fist angrily at the closed door. There's a large tick mark forming on her forehead. She had entirely forgotten how frustrating it was to deal with this man. "I want to ask if you know of anyone who has pink hair, who has ever been involved with us."

There is silence for at least a minute, before he murmurs quietly "Pink hair?"

"Yeah." Liz confirms, nodding her head vigorously even though the man behind the door couldn't see her. "Or like, from any neighboring gangs or anything. She's a girl... Pink hair, not very long, pretty thin figure too… Do you know anyone like that?"

Once again they elapse into an uncomfortable silence. The only sounds that could be heard are the occasional shout from above, and the low hum on the music that continued to seep into the room.

"You couldn't possibly be talking about who I think you are… can you?" He said at last, his tone grave and solemn.

"Well, it would help if we knew who the hell your thinking of." Liz snaps angrily. She's sick of half answers. Would it kill someone to actually tell her the full story of what is going on?

"Have you ever heard of Arachne?" He asks his tone so low that you could almost hear the frown he was wearing in his voice.

"Of course we've heard of that bitch." Patty growls. Though sis and the boss had been talking, this is one area she knows more about than sis. Everyone in Brooklyn – no matter how small or how insignificant – had heard of Arachne. Patty was one of the few who had met the woman first hand, and lived to tell the tale. "If I ever get my fucking hands on that c-"

"Patty, hold on." Liz interrupts the string of curses moments away from pouring out of her sister's mouth. She needs answers. If Pinkie is connected with Arachne somehow… would that would mean that Maka could also be connected with Arachne too?….no. Maka wouldn't….would she? There's no way in hell….

"Did you two know?" The boss' voice break's Liz out of her thoughts, as she glances up at the wooden the door in surprise.

"..Know what?" She asks cautiously. Judging by his tone, whatever news he was about to tell them was _not_ good in any way, shape or form. Did someone die? Is someone going to jail? Are they in danger? Is it connected with Arachne? Any more questions and Liz was sure she would hyperventilate.

His words were so soft, both Liz and Patty barely caught them.

And after hearing them, Liz wished she didn't.

"Apparently, Arachne has a daughter."

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><p><em>It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.<em>


	21. Execution

**Author's Note: What can I say? This chapter is the long awaited 'execution' chapter, that everything has been leading up to for the last 15 chapters. **

**Quite a few people were confused about last chapter, and how I mentioned Arachne has a daughter, implying that her daughter is Crona. Now, if you look back a few chapters, you will find the answers to that question. Now I'm not going to say it outright, but you can work it out using the things said by a certain other character. **

**I want to thank Midlina, Mouers, SAHCB, raelynn gross, bluenian98, KirstyKakes, and We Rock the House for your reviews. Hopefully, this chapter is satisfying enough for you :P**

**Please drop a review if you have the time, but otherwise, enjoy the read!**

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><p>Soul is dressed and ready. He just needs to collect his book bag and his cell phone. He looks down and see's Maka's bag next to his and rolls his eyes. Did she forget her shit? Someone should tell her you can't go to school without your books. What an idiot.<p>

Turning towards the desk, he picks up his cell phone and sighs heavily. He supposed that she could probably get away with not taking books to school today. The execution snuck up on him, and the dreaded Monday arrived much faster than he wished. He's tired as fuck. He didn't catch a wink of sleep last night, and knows he has dark bags under his eyes. He looks in the mirror briefly and can safely say he looks like walking death.

He sighs and attempts to collect himself. This isn't being fair on Maka. She has been surprisingly tolerant of his rotten moods over the past few days, only giving him one or two Maka chops for his idiocy. He isn't sure if she knows what he is going through, or is just generally lacking the energy to beat the living daylights out of him. On the surface, she looked totally fine about the execution when he was talking to her the night before. She shouldn't have to deal with his worries on top of her own.

With a scowl firmly planted on his face, he turns, picks up both book bags, and heads out for breakfast.

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><p>Maka goes back to her own room to finish getting her things. She grabs her tie and ties it perfectly. Next she hops into her bed, brings her knees to her chest and puts on her socks. Where is Soul? He must have already been out in the main room. She hasn't talked to him this morning and wonders what kind of mood the clown is in. He hates mornings and she hates his grouchiness until about ten. Then, his tartness is more for show than it is a reflection of his real deportment. She turns to pick up her book bag, before she realizes it is not there. She remembers leaving it in Soul's room on Friday night and quickly makes her way through the door.<p>

She darts into his door, softly opening and closing the door behind her. At a quick glance, she cannot spot either Soul or her book bag. She figures he must have taken it to the main room with him. She leaves as quickly as she entered, pulling the door shut behind her.

When she gets to the entrance of the kitchen, she sees Soul eating breakfast while reading a newspaper. She doesn't say anything, and just watches. He's not in a good mood. He has quite a scowl going on. In fact, it is very pronounced. His eyes are moving across the page slowly, but very erratically. That means that he really isn't reading it. His eyes are moving to make others think that he is, but he's in contemplation. Her friend is very uneasy. His breaths are evenly spaced, but they are deep, meaning that he is giving himself the 'just calm down' talk. _What is on your mind, Jackass?_

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><p><em>Okay, what is my problem?<em>

_He has a very bad feeling about today. Something is going to go wrong, he just knows it. No matter how hard he tries, he can't stop the thoughts about the execution gnawing at his subconscious. What's the worst that could happen? He curses inwardly. That was a stupid question to ask himself, because now he has death scenarios of all his friends stuck on endless repeat inside his brain. What is it about the execution that makes him to anxious? The chance of someone actually escaping is next to nothing. So what has him so riled up? Is it the .01% chance something may go wrong? Soul blames Kid for this. Surely escaping from an execution is mere child's play in the books of someone ranked 13? The adults will all be there. The thought should calm him, but instead, all it does is fuel his anxiety._

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><p>He can hear footsteps behind him, and assumes they belong to Maka. He decides not to look at her yet because he swears that she can read his mind sometimes and he doesn't want her to start digging anything out of him until he can figure himself out.<p>

As she comes toward him, she notices that he decides not to look up, intentionally. His eyes move her direction on the paper and then dart to the other side. Inwardly, she sighs. What the hell is he sorting through? As she walks by, she smacks him in the back of the head which instantly makes him look up. "Hey! What the hell! Can I get some peace?" He asks as he turns around to look at her.

As soon as his eyes make contact with hers, she starts her search while carrying on a conversation. "I decided to stop your eyes from the senseless wandering since your brain isn't picking up any of the words." She says factually as she sits down and grabs her chopsticks. Keeping a hold on his orbs, she notices that his eyes are still his normal shade of crimson, so he's not angry. But the outside corners are down a bit. He's definitely worried.

The boy's eyes become the size of saucers. "I-I was reading! Just because you don't read newspapers doesn't mean you have the right to criticize the rest of the well-informed public." _Shit._ She knows something is wrong. _How did she know that I wasn't reading?_ His eyes become immediately glued to the page.

Maka rolls her eyes. Soul diversion tactic number one: when you want someone to leave you alone, insult them in a way that will make them pissed enough that they won't want to talk. Unfortunately for him, she's already caught on to that show. He knows damn well that she reads the newspaper. He's just pissed about being busted. "I knew that you weren't reading because your eyes didn't move in a pattern of reading." She says evenly. When his eyes go back to the paper, she knows right then, that there is definitely a problem. He is refusing to look at her which is definitely taboo in the book of Soul. She needs to get his eyes back up so she can get to the bottom of whatever the bullshit seems to be. So, she insults him with a chuckle. "And you being well informed might be debatable."

_How does she do that? That is almost creepy_! He looks up at her out of reflex with his scowl firmly in place. "And I suppose that you are?"

The girl decides that she has to annoy him enough to keep his gaze engaged. "I didn't say that I was. I was just saying that you being so is up for discussion." She is wearing a smart-assed smile and she notices that he has forgotten about his issue when his eyes get engaged in the banter. But, then, it comes right back. They stare at each other for a second. Soul knows that she is fishing, and wants to look away, but can't. However, his dorm mates come to his rescue. Tsubaki and the Thompson sisters walk past them with their bags slung on their shoulders.

"Get a move on, we don't want to be late." Liz speaks at last, pausing to glance at the silent conversation occurring between her friends. Soul looks like he's been through hell and back, while Maka appears to simply be curious.

Soul and Maka begin to gather their belongings, while turning to face the others.

"Morning." Maka briefly greets Tsubaki and the sisters before sauntering off to put her plate in the sink. Soul follows closely behind, sparing a short wave at his dorm mates, before doing the same to his plate as Maka.

"Good morning to both of you." Tsubaki greets with a smile, as she cleans the table, pushing the chairs under the table neatly and brushing off any crumbs with the back of her hand.

"Where's Blackstar and Kid?" Maka can't help but ask. She hears a loud bang come from outside the front door, and her question is answered for her. Tsubaki offers her a sheepish smile but Maka waves it off, in favor of heading out the door.

Professor Stein is already waiting as they exit the dorm. He has a roll check, and a pen in hand. He offers the students a quick motion of his hand to follow, as he quickly marks them either present or absent. They walk in absolute silence. Maka is still peering at Soul, whose condition had made little improvement in the time they had been out of the dorm. She leans over and whispers in a soft voice "What's wrong?"

He doesn't know what the hell to say to her, and her worry only makes him feel worse. "Nothing." Immediately, he picks up his pace so that he is walking alongside Blackstar, leaving Maka to trot with Tsubaki and the Thompson sisters.

_Liar._ There is definitely something wrong.

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><p>They have been walking for at least half an hour along crowded streets, and narrow alleys, and still don't appear to be getting any closer to their intended destination. Just where the hell were they going, anyway? Professor Stein still hasn't said a word since their journey began. His pase is brisk, and ridiculously fast. The only member of their dorm able to keep up without breaking a sweat is inevitably Blackstar. Soul's legs ache. He doesn't want to be the first to complain, but man they <em>hurt<em>. He supposes it takes his mind off what he is about to witness. If he is concentrating on how much pain he is currently in, maybe his mind won't wander. He can only hope so.

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><p>They reach the execution grounds an hour later. Soul thinks it was a stupid idea to walk if it was this far out. His muscles are screaming in agony, and he is literally coated in sweat. Not many others were in better condition. Maka's fringe was plastered to her sticky forehead, as was Kid's. Even Blackstar's hair had lost some of its 'bounce', and he could tell his own snowy-white spikes had wilted. Professor Stein didn't look any different from when they had left. What the hell was that guy anyway?<p>

The execution ground was surrounded by a metal, spiked fence. It was huge, maybe 20 or even 30 feet high, and covered by barbed wire. There were large poles running through the fence, and by the crackling air around them, he didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that it was electric. In all, it looked like a fort, and so heavily defended that an army would have a tough job breaking and entering. So why was he still so _scared?_

4 heavily armed guards pick their group up in an armored vehicle. Each is equipped with an array of guns, knives and other necessities.

Slowly, the gate is opened.

The vehicle drives in cautiously, entering the gothic looking place at a snail's pace, as the gate closed firmly behind them.

The whole interior of the grounds look similar to one of the spooky graveyards you sometimes see in horror movies. The grass and trees were dead, or slowly dying, and the most vibrant color in the whole area was the red of Soul's eyes.

Maka can only see grays, browns and blacks.

An astounding number of people crowded around the centre podium. Upon the wooden frame, sits the lonely device that was to be used for the last time. It is a simple scaffold-like structure, with a rope with a noose at one end attached to the top. There is a platform, in which Maka guesses that the criminal walks out on, before having the rope bound around their neck, then the platform taken away so they would fall to their death.

The crowd is a mixture of gray, and brown. Maka figures they are from either the army, or maybe from the police station.

A loud siren bursts through the oppressive silence, gaining everyone's attention instantaneously. Maka and the others from the dorm dismount the vehicle, wandering behind Stein, over to the platform in the middle.

The siren blasts loudly once more as from one of the outer rims the dirt appears to be being dug up, or pushed aside. Soon, the sand and dirt covering the object is gone, revealing an old, rotting wooden hatch buried in the side of the structure. The hatch is slowly swung open, as a numerous guards filed out; large rifles in hand all pointing in the same direction.

The path eventually clears, and both Soul and Maka can see what they are all aiming at. In the centre of the commotion, is a figure. There is a brown cover over his head, so none of his facial features are clearly visible. His limbs are so thin and scrawny, you could literally see the bones jutting out where they joined, like in his knees and elbows. He was covered only by tattered rags, so that the majority of his scarred and malnourished chest was visible. His ribs slowly expanded before retracting as he takes one deep breath after another.

Even looking in the direction sends Maka's spine crawling. She wants desperately to look away, but she can't.

Each step the criminal takes is wobbly, as if that without the support of the guards on each side, he wouldn't have the strength to stand.

Soul thinks the man looks like a miserable thing. The so-called '13 level' monster, looks that pathetic? For some reason, even though the wreck about to be executed almost made him laugh, he felt something was off… there was something _wrong_. Every time he glances in the escort party's direction, his blood runs cold, his breath catches in his through and he his spine crawls. Something over there radiates pure _evil._

The party reaches the stand, and the criminal is roughly pushed forward. The guard doing the manhandling catches Maka's attention. He is wearing an officer's cap that covers his hair and cloaks his face in the shadows. Maka cannot stop staring at the guard, as the criminal is feebly struggling as the guard delivers another brutal blow to his face. Very soon, the same guard is wrapping the noose around the criminal's neck with ease and precision… It looks like the guard has had a lot of practice. The bag is roughly pulled of the condemned's head, displaying to everyone in the area his wretched face.

The criminal's eyes dart around the crowd, desperately searching for something. His dull brown eyes meet Maka's a second before the guard roughly pushes him off the platform.

As he is falling through the air, as his eyes are wide in fear, as his hair is flapping in the wind, all he does is mouth a singular word that only one person in the entire audience catches, before falling to his death.

The resounding 'snap' of his spine cracking and his neck snapping echoes through the deadly silent area.

Slowly, the crowd begins to break out in cheers of pure happiness and joy. Soul can't take his eyes from the scene. The feeling hasn't dispersed. The feeling of something _evil_… a _monster_, being right beside him lingers on. It feels like there are hands wrapping around his throat, and a knife being pressed into his back. He should be happy… shouldn't he? Why… why was he trembling in fear?

He looks at Maka standing silently beside him. Her eyes are the widest he has ever seen them. Her pupils have shrunk to the size of tiny dots and her mouth is hanging wide open. She looks absolutely terrified.

Maka can't breathe. She can't fucking breathe! By the cheers and sounds of congratulations echoing around her, she knows deep down that she is the only person who caught what the 'criminal' mouthed before he died.

She turns away stiffly, feeling vomit crawl up her throat. Soul grabs her arm in a desperate attempt to halt his own violent shaking. Maka can't feel him, nor can she see, nor hear him. All she can hear is the man's mouthed words- his silent scream, echoing endlessly in her mind.

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><p><em>'RUN'<em>


	22. Evanesce

**Author's Note: Firstly, I want to say that last week was amazing. I had so many responses to my last chapter, I didn't quite know what to do with myself! The last scene of the last chapter, as well as the first scene of this chapter, had such a large effect on me that I had to draw it. **

**Here is the link, if you feel like checking it out.**

**http : / / gone-phishing . deviantart . com/art/Maka-Run-263876933**

**Destroy the spaces and you're good.**

**Secondly, I want to thank raelynn gross, -ramennoodles-O.o, bluenian98, bushin1996, KirstyKakes, Drew Secrets, SAHCB and Gingiie666, all who reviewed last chapter. This is for you, and your support.**

**Lastly, I want to say that the plot has finally kicked in, and we are finally getting to see some action! Woo!**

**Please enjoy the read, and drop a review if you have time.**

**Disclaimer - I do not own Soul Eater in any way**

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><p>The rain starts. At first, it is tiny droplets falling occasionally, slowly dampening the dusty ground and covering the crowd in a thin layer of moisture. The clouds above them are a combination of a deep gray, a murky brown and some were almost black. The pitter-patter of the drizzle slowly escalates, the occasional drop turning into 10, then to 20, then to over 100. The crowd begins to shift uneasily, as if when together, they were some large singular organism, caught in the rain. Seconds later, the rain is so heavy, a mist has formed around the crowd's ankles, slowly snaking upwards to cloak the whole area in a smoky veil of white.<p>

Maka has still not moved an inch. Her eyes are blank, a dull emerald as she continues to gaze listlessly forward. She had lost sight of the podium awhile ago, but she continued to stare as her brain attempts to process the new information. She was certain the criminal was talking to her. And only her. What did he mean? Run? Who should she run from? Was he warning her about someone else, or playing some sick, twisted game, in which she should run so he could hunt her down?

Her gut tells her that the man who was meant to die today is still alive and well. The man who died had dull gray eyes. She would know, she locked eyes with him. But... for some reason, she just knew that the condemned had red eyes. Why she had this information, she didn't even want to think about.

Soul, beside her, begins to shiver almost violently. His teeth are chattering loudly, and his own eyes are still drawn to the scene that took place minutes ago. The fog has grown so thick that even their dorm mates only meters away are mere shadowy figures in the mist. His heart is pounding at tremendous speeds, and he thinks he is seconds away from having a heart attack.

He is terrified for a number of reasons. First and foremost, was simply that he feels like someone is watching him. And not just a regular bystander, he feels like someone is looking inside him, searching around for his most preciously kept secrets. He doesn't like the feeling. He knows something isn't right. Secondly, the fact that Maka looks even more distraught than himself is seriously getting to him. He has never seen Maka in such a state of absolute shock before. The main question lingering on in his mind is, why? Does Maka feel the same disturbing feeling as he does? Or did something else happen? Thirdly, is that the mist is making things difficult. He can't see Blackstar or Stein anymore, and even Maka is growing hazy. His hold on her arm tightens. Not to stop his own shaking anymore, but to stop them getting separated.

The combination of the rain and mist has seeped into his clothing, and every time an icy drop of water falls onto his chest, he flinches. His arms are slowly numbing, along with his legs and nose. He thinks this is a good thing. He has just gotten past the phase of being 'cold', even though his body temperature is probably lower than it was minutes ago, he doesn't feel nearly as chilled. Perhaps he has gone numb after all?

"Hey Maka. Let's find the others." He commands, shaking her slightly. He is sure they aren't standing side by side their friends and teacher anymore. He feels incredibly alone right now, and bets that Maka feels the same. Safety in numbers, right?

He can't see Maka nod through the mist, but she tugs softly on his jacket, signalling that she hears him. He begins to walk, slowly at first, Maka walking alongside him. Every time they take a step, the mist hits their faces and covers them in a layer of icy cold water. Okay, now Soul definitely can't feel his nose.

It isn't long before they bump into something. It is tall, and looks to be wearing one of the guard's uniforms. He hears a rustle of cloth beside him, and before he knows what's going on, Maka has dropped her eyes from the guard and is staring holes into the ground.

"I'm sorry sir, we didn't see you." Soul apologizes, with a wave of his hand. The guard's face is still shrouded with mist, so that it looks like he is talking to a uniform with no one inside it.

"It's alright." The guard says, and for some reason, his voice sends shivers down Soul's spine. Maka tugs fiercely on edge of his jacket, as he looks at her in confusion. Maka slowly backs away, before turning around and walking away. Soul hurriedly follows after her, but his mind is fixed on what he just saw. He swears, that even though the guard's face was covered…Soul could see him smiling at them as they left.

"Oi Maka, what was that for?" He snaps at her, as they continue to trudge through the fog. She is in the lead now, walking at a brisk pace and he guesses she is wearing a frown, if the tone of voice she responds in is any indication.

"What for?" She replies impatiently, halting her movements abruptly, before craning her neck around, glancing from side to side, her pigtails swinging with each minor movement.

"That guard back there. I don't think I've ever seen you act that submissive in front of anyone before." He remarks casually. To be completely honest, he has never even seen her bow before. And she just bows for a complete stranger for no apparent reason? That just didn't add up.

"Soul..." she begins, her tone dropping and her voice quieting down. She pauses, and only the scraping of gravel somewhere in the distance can be heard between them. "Surely you felt it too back there? That something was just… off."

"I know exactly what you're talking about." Soul concedes with a sigh. In truth, he's incredibly glad that it wasn't just him. Someone else had felt it too, which meant that it had a higher chance of being something serious, not just some feeling he made up.

"That guard back there. I don't know if you noticed it, but he was the one who kicked the so-called 'criminal' off the platform." Maka replies, turning 90 degrees to the right, before continuing her pace. Soul struggles to keep up.

"I didn't notice…" he says with a frown. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't see the guard's face back then either. Something was wrong with that picture…

"There you guys are!" Maka yelps, causing Soul to jolt at the sound of her voice compared to the volume she had used earlier. As he drew closer, he could to make out the blurry shapes that she must have spotted beforehand.

"Maka! It's you! I'm so glad you're alright!" Says one of the figures that is distinctly feminine. He recognizes the voice as belonging to Tsubaki, and realizes that the rest of the figures must be his missing dorm.

He quickens his pace, passing Maka before she grabs his arm roughly, preventing him from reaching the others.

She speaks lowly and in a deadly voice, right into his ear, "I have to go check something out. Tell them I'll be right back." And with that, she disappears back into the mist.

He wants to yell at her for being stupid. He wants to yell that she will get lost. He wants to yell at her to take him with her. But most of all, he wants to yell and scream, to shout until she understands. To tell her to come back. Because he has a horrible feeling that if he just lets her disappear like this, she may never come back.

He turns away from where he last caught sight of her with a deep scowl. He stalks towards his dorm, as they greet him with confused faces and light pats on the back. They don't quite know what to say to him, and he doesn't quite know what to say to them. They are hesitant in bringing up Maka's whereabouts, especially as Tsubaki had caught sight of her only moments before the sandy-haired girl disappeared. Soul sighs, forcing the fierce frown off of his facial features, replacing it with an emotionless blank look.

_Damn it Maka_, he thinks to himself, _if you die, I'll kill you._

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><p>Maka doesn't quite know why she ventured off alone. She feels like she absolutely has to see it again. The criminal, that is. She regrets not taking Soul with her, because it feels like someone is watching her every move. She's honestly surprised her and Soul hadn't run into more people when they were attempting to find their dorm. They were walking around blind for god's sakes! There's no way you don't somehow avoid the entire crowd that if she remembered correctly, had filled the place. Not a chance in hell. That and the fact that the only person they ran in to was someone she was hoping to never come within 10 feet of for the rest of her life.<p>

The guard scares her. If she has to pin point one thing in this entire situation that doesn't belong, she would choose him. She also doesn't know how his face continues to be blocked by either mist, or some other cover. Is it just a trick of the light? Or does he, or someone else, not want her to see his face?

She sighs. This is getting her nowhere. She needs to find the podium, and then… and then what? What the hell did she even want to do in the first place?

She kicks the ground in frustration. Instead of kicking rocks and dust like she had seen when she first entered the area, her heel almost digs into the soil, now that it is drenched and soaking. She kicks out again, for no other reason than to vent her frustrations. This time, her toe smashes into a foreign object. It is hard, and she stubs her toe as it hits the front of her shoe with a surprising amount of pain.

She glances down to find the offending object, and hopefully make it burn in the fires of hell for the agony it has inflicted upon her poor toe. Her eyes meet a mix of brown and ochre, and as she runs her fingers along it, she determines it is wood.

Her eyes go wide. She's at the podium! She reaches out, finding her way up the wooden steps by touch alone. She opens her eyes –When had she closed them? - to find the centre of the podium in full view. There was no mist. It formed a dome surrounding the hanging body, but inside the circle, there was absolutely none. Maka takes one cautious step forward, followed by another, then another, until she is standing over where the criminal had stood beforehand. She swallows thickly, allowing her eyes to trail downwards, until they rested upon the motionless corpse, slowly rotating due to the soft breeze. The body was pale now, unlike how it was when it was alive. It was an inhuman shade of white, which caused Maka to shiver and fight to hold down her breakfast.

She kneels down, ignoring how her stiff knees protest the movement. She leans forward, until her fingertips are mere millimeters away from touching the rope.

"OI, YOU!" A loud shot shatters the deafening silence, as Maka flinches violently and her back goes rigid. It's the same voice as before. The same guard who killed the criminal. The same guard who she and Soul bumped into earlier. She began to sweat, as the now corpse's silent scream echoed through her mind.

RUN!

She obeyed without a second thought, bolting from the rotting wood and darting back into the mist. She can hear footsteps behind her, and the scraping of a metal knife being pulled from its holder.

"STOP THERE!" it yells again, as Maka ignores it. Her head is pounding, her hands are shaking, her knees are wobbly and each step she comes closer and closer to crashing to the ground. But she can't stop. Not now. Her heart is pounding as the sounds behind her begin to lessen, until they eventually fade away, leaving a deafening silence in their place. Maka refuses to stop running, as the perpetual ringing in her ears slowly grows louder and louder.

After what feels like hours, and her chest is aching and her blood rushing through her veins, she spots blurry shapes in the distance. There were lots of them. She continues her pace, the shapes, turning into figures, turning into people. She crashes into the closest one a mere second later, sending both of them tumbling to the ground in a pile of legs and arms.

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><p>God damn shit! It feels like he just got run over by a train! Luckily, he managed to cushion his fall with his head... He can't see straight. There is someone on top of, underneath and tangled with him. He rubs his eyes, and decides Maka must have thought this was good payback for him not accompanying her. Seriously. She, too, looks to be in various amounts of pain, as she massages her temple gently wearing a look he had never seen before. Her eyebrows were furrowed, as if she were in pain, but her eyes were wide and her pupils shrunken to the size of tiny dots. She was terrified.<p>

Stein watches the scene with mild distain, not caring a tinker's cuss about the teenage relationships developing in his dorm. What he does notice, however, is that there are footsteps coming from the mist, and they are slowly growing louder. Eventually, a guard's form takes shape as it approaches the professor quickly and efficiently.

Soon, the guard is standing directly in front of Stein, and he doesn't know what to think. Somehow, the guard manages to be shorter than himself, and yet his face is not visible even at this distance.

"That girl was caught trespassing. I need to have a private word with her." The guard says flatly, and factually, without any sort of malice. Ah, so that's where she's been! Stein nods briefly, gesturing over to Maka and Soul who were still in a tangled mess on the floor, now involved in some sort of heated argument.

"Why didn't you move! You could have hurt yourself!" Maka snaps at the red-eyed boy, as he glares at her in response.

"Maybe if you didn't catapult yourself on to me, then I wouldn't have to move in the first place, idiot!" He spits in reply, slowly attempting to stand up as Maka follows his course of action and attempts to do the same.

"I'm not an idiot, moron!" She retorts childishly, poking out her tongue.

"Tinytits-" he is about to finish is insult when he chokes on air at who he spots right beside them. He can't see his face, but he knows the guard is smiling at them. Maka glances at him curiously, eyebrows raised and head tilted slightly to the side, as she wonders why he paused midway through his insult.

Her eyes follow his gaze behind her, to the guard she was running from moments before standing behind her. Her eyes go wide in absolute terror, as the guard roughly grabs a hold of her arm, before both of them disappear into the mist.

Soul's heart drops into his stomach.

"M-Maka?" is all he can whisper, brokenly staring at where she was standing only a second before.


	23. Confrontation

**Author's Note: This is late for a number of reasons. First and fore mostly, is that I had a number of things come up in real life, and have only had time to write about 500 words a day on this. But, here's some good news, there will hopefully be another update tomorrow as well, because I'm going to try and update twice a weekend, and if I can manage it during the week, then maybe once there as well.**

**This chapter covers many, many things, and though I did attempt to answer some questions with this chapter, I only seemed to raise even more. Oops :P**

**Last week was amazing! I can't believe so many people took the time to leave a comment, or thought. It was spectacular! I want to thank raelynn gross, nitemaren, Drew Secrets, KirstyKakes, GrossGirl18, SAHCB, bluenian98, bubblesrawr, We Rock the House, xHoshixnoxKaabiixfan, and wombattree for your reviews. Thank you all so much for your support!**

**Please enjoy the read, and if you have time, drop a review.**

**Thank you!**

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><p>Maka's whole body <em>aches<em>. Her legs are covered in a fine sheen of sweat and droplets of water, and they cry every time she is pulled forward. Her strides aren't nearly quickly enough to match the man in front of her. She is always one or two steps directly behind, leaving the guard to pull roughly every time she begins to lag behind.

Her arm feels like there are chains binding it. The guard's grip is like steel, and she swears that she can feel his bones pressing against her slippery skin. Every time he pulls, it feels like he is trying to dislocate her arm.

She wants to tell him to stop. But she can't. Terror clogs her throat, and pure fear is clamping her mouth tightly shut.

She can't even see his figure, a mere foot away. She thinks that he controls the mist, Or something along those lines. It all just seems too convenient. The rain continues to pound the muddy ground, so that even the squelch of their footsteps is inaudible over the pouring rain.

Maka felt like she had been walking for hours. Everything about the entire situation felt so _wrong. _The guard felt _wrong_. Out of place, like he didn't belong here. The man being executed gave off the same vibe. Every logical thought that runs through Maka's mind comes up with the exact same answer, of something about the entire situation is off. She knows it has something to do with the guard.

Could he be… the man who was meant to die today?

It made sense then. The criminal's last silent words. But what would the real monster here want with her? It didn't make any sense. Had she ever met him anywhere before? Shinigami-sama hinted that she knew the man who was meant to be executed. Well, in fact. So what did that mean? Did that mean that she knows the guard practically tearing her limb from limb?

The thick mist slowly ebbs away, and as Maka clears her bleary eyes, she is shocked at what she sees. She is no longer in the execution grounds. She is in a building. It looks faintly reminiscent of a room in where criminals would be pressured for answers. Interrogation. The walls and ceiling were pure white, and the floor following in fashion. The only blemish marking the surface was the mud that had fallen off the 'guard's' shoes and her own as he pulls her to the glass table in the centre.

In one swift movement, she is sitting on the chair, and he is across the other side of the room, leaving her to rub her bruised forearm.

Maka is literally paralyzed by fear. She knows by the _'click_' she heard earlier, that the door and only exit is locked. She is alone in a room, with a man she suspects to be some kind of psychotic killer. How did these things go again? _Oh yeah,_ she thinks, _they'll find my dismembered corpse somewhere ironic, won't they?_ Her attempt to lighten the situation only seems to make it sink it more. The fact that it is a possibility scares her more than she will ever admit. She is fighting with all her strength to not start trembling.

The 'guard' watches the whole scene in amusement. He finds it positively enthralling to watch Maka, of all people, quiver in fear. He's certain she doesn't remember anything. If she did, there was no way in hell she would let herself be caught dead or alive within 100 meters of his presence. He hid a smirk under the shadow of his officer's cap. This would be _fun._

"What were you doing on the execution platform without permission?" he asks in a deadly voice, short and to the point. Maka is shocked out of her fear by the sound of his voice. It sounds strong. It sounds like a voice a real guard would use. But then, why does her gut scream _liar, liar¸_ every time he speaks?

"I-I didn't touch anything." Maka tries to explain. Maybe if this is really a guard, she can explain herself, then escape this disturbing place with all her limbs still attached to her body.

"You were about to. Why would you even approach a place like that!" He growls, slamming his fists on the glass table for emphasis. The metal grinds into the marble floor causing a horrible 'screech' to echo in the small room.

"I'm sorry!" She apologizes, her desperation rising. She wants to escape. She needs to escape. "I really didn't mean to! You can talk to Stein, my teacher and organize a punishment!" She offers, pointing towards the locked door urgently. Anything to escape this conversation.

"Why would you even approach the stand in the first place?" Maka's thoughts halt abruptly at his question. Why did she venture out alone in the first place? What was she even hoping to accomplish again?

"I-I" she seems to stumble over her reasoning, starting and restarting the sentence multiple times before eventually getting going. "I got lost! That was it!" She explains, fists and jaw clenched so tightly that not even a crowbar could rip them apart.

"Are you sure that was it? Are you entirely sure you didn't purposely search for the criminal?" Maka was about to interject, but he continued without giving her an inch. "Was it morbid curiosity? Or was it something more…"

Maka's eyes are the size of saucers. She can't believe what she has just heard. What did he just imply?

"Did it set your blood on fire? Seeing those lifeless eyes and motionless body. Was it invigorating? The sound of his spine _snapping_ in half? Did it send your heart pounding, and the _thrill_ of the kill, rushing through your body, just like old times, Maka?"

Maka's brain has gone into overload. W-why does this man know what she felt. What he was describing, though, wasn't an emotion anywhere close to fear. So why did it sound exactly the same as what she had felt? She was scared right? It… it was _terror_ invading her body, not… something else, right? RIGHT?

Why does this man know what she felt? Why does this man know her name?

She isn't sure whether the emotion she has strangled with at the scene of the man's death was fear anymore. But she knew this was. She was _terrified_ of this man. And she didn't know why.

"H-how…" she whispers meekly, eyes wide and downcast, pupils the size of tiny dots. The fear is slowly churning in her belly, changing into something else. It feels like someone has lit a fire in her gut. Her insides are burning now, not in fear, but in anger. "How the fuck do you know my name?" She hisses with clenched teeth. Her eyes are no longer downcast, but raised and glaring directly into the shadow that should have been the 'guard's' face.

He looks mildly taken aback for a short second, before smiling lightly, as if he had already anticipated these exact turn of events.

"Such a foul mouth." He mocks her voice, sarcastic and airy. He moves and takes a seat on the opposite side of the table. He begins to trace invisible images onto the glass table with his fingernail, every movement causing a scratching sound to bounce around the room. "You don't remember me? I'm hurt, really."

She almost growls at him. The sheer sarcasm and mocking ring to his voice could drive anyone insane. "I'm dead serious. Why the hell do you know me, and who the fuck are you, really?" She's losing her temper. She doesn't know how much longer she will be able to formulate coherent sentences. The immense fear has turned to anger, and now that unquenchable fury has lit a fire in her veins she cannot extinguish. With every sarcastic word he speaks, the fire grows.

"But we were such good friends!" He says every word elongated, his tone mocking and sarcastic still. "As for who I am." He pauses, glancing directly into her eyes for the very first time. She freezes. His eyes…t-they look _unholy_. "You should already know. Hell, I expected you to know something was up before they even dragged my personal guard out in chains!" He barks out short laughter at his own ironic joke. Maka's eyebrows furrow. His private guard. There was no doubt anymore.

The man before her, the man locked in a room with her, was the monster who was meant to be executed. The guard must have warned her to stay away. Why?... Why didn't she listen?

"I can see by the look on your face that I just confirmed your suspicions." He says, smiling cruelly down at the absolutely stricken look on her face. "Switching places with a guard was mere child's play. Especially when someone on the outside gift wraps you an object that is perfectly capable of murder." He explains with a wave of his hand, his voice nonchalant as Maka's jaw begins to unhinge. Why is he telling her this? What does he want from her? Why was this even happening? "Oh, by the way. You'll have to thank Medusa for me, next time you see her."

"M—Medusa… as in Medusa-sensei?" Maka questions in disbelief. She has only met the blonde haired nurse a number of times, but after multiple experiences with said doctor, Maka could safely say that the woman was one of the most kind and gentle women she had ever met. H-he couldn't be talking about her, right?

"If that's what she's calling herself now." He confirms, watching in amusement as Maka's eyes widen once more. Why is she being told this? She honestly doesn't want to know this. She would rather be ignorant than have to be suspicious of everyone she considered to be kind, or a friend.

"Why…" Maka says at last, after almost 2 minutes of heavy silence. He glances up in with a raised eyebrow, noting that her temper has once more reached boiling point. Pity. He really liked the _terror_ in her eyes. "Why am I here? What the fuck do you want from me!" Maka snarls, on the offence. Her nostrils are flared, her cheeks are flushed in rage and her eyebrows are crossed.

His response is to simply stretch his limbs, before yawning as if her rage and her questions were directed at anyone but himself. He purposely ignores her, as the feeling of being 'trapped' is slowly but surely replacing the anger that previously filled her veins. The fear is back. That's exactly what he wants.

"I needyou to do me a tiiiny little favor."

Her answer is short and instantaneous. She doesn't even need time to think about his request. "Not a chance in hell." Why would she? He's a dangerous serial murderer most likely plotting something evil. Why would he even consider asking her for a 'favor'?

He sighs. Of course. He had almost forgotten how much of a stubborn mule she could be. She would _never_ assist him willingly, unless he gave her a reason.

He reaches into his coat, and draws a yellow paper file with his left, and a large razor sharp knife with his right. Maka's eyes widen in horror at the sight of the weapon, ignoring the file that he tosses to the table before them.

"Now, I could take this knife and…" He trails off, dragging the blade across the front of her neck, deep enough to draw a thin line of blood, but not deep enough to cause any serious damage. Maka is frozen in her place. One tiny movement and she would die right here. She… she didn't want to die. Not now… not yet. "But, then what would I get? A dead friend, and no one to do me this little favor."

He takes the knife away from her neck slowly, placing the tip against the pad on the tip of his finger, twirling the knife with his opposite hand. "I could threaten you, I suppose. 'If you don't do this for me, I'll kill you!'" He chuckles at his own joke as Maka glares at him from across the table.

"I would never help you. Even at the cost of my own life, I wouldn't help murderers like you!" she spits, as he actually appears to light up in delight at her words.

"What makes you think you're any better than me? You're a murderer too… But I suppose you're right. I had almost forgotten how 'selfless' you can be." He stares at the glinting blade of the knife without a shred of emotion, watching how drops of blood slowly ran down his finger from where the knife's point rested. Maka overlooked the scene with thinly veiled disgust, holding back a sneer. "You're courageous too, right?" He mocks, twirling the deadly weapon with one hand, with precise, practiced movements.

"How about I use _that_ against you?" He growls, as he abruptly stops spinning the weapon, and instead, slams it down into the table, right through the yellow paper folder. As Maka's eyes slowly trail down the slender edge of the knife, she flinches violently when her eyes rest on exactly what the knife had hit. The seal on the folder had been sliced open, so that the contents had spilled out carelessly. The knife ran straight through a photo of Soul's face.

"So then, Maka. Would you do me this tiny little favor, to save your friend?" He smiles coldly as cold sweat beads Maka's brow. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fucking fair! There was no way she could make this choice… What if the 'little favor' cost more lives? Would she really let multiple people die because of her selfishness of wanting to save Soul? W-would she really let him die, because of her reluctance to sacrifice other lives? O-other people's lives shouldn't matter in comparison with his, but… but!

"Oh come on now. It's one little favor, and I'll even give you something in return."

Maka's absolute fury returns. She is livid. How… how dare he just play with their lives like this?

"What could you possibly give me that I would even _want,_ murderer." She says with contempt, and for the first time since she has ever laid eyes upon him, he frowned. Though it was only a slight twitch of his right eyebrow, she caught it. And for some reason, the tiny action displaying his disgruntlement made a feeling of triumph course through her veins.

"You should be so hypocritical, murderer." He bites back in return, before his expression relaxes once more. "Besides, I know you want what I'm offering. It's simple really. You've been kept in the dark for so long now… surely you know some information… to _remember_?"

Maka's heartbeat falters. I-information? To remember? No. she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to remember!

"No, don't!" She pleads, with a horrified look on her face. "I- I don't nee-"

"Oh, but you do… How about your father, hmm? Wouldn't you like to know why he _abandoned_ you?"

In Maka, the fire is blazing out of control. How… How dare he? What the fuck gives him the right to just… to just say things like tha-

"What about that little friend of yours, who you don't remember either. Crona, was it? Don't you want to know who she is? Or, how about who she _was_ to you?"

Maka's right eye twitches. It is the first time she wants to agree. She wants to know, but at the same time she doesn't. She's terrified, but she… she wants to know what she has forgotten. Not all of it. Just… she wants to remember who Crona is.

"What about your pal, Soul was it? Do you want to know about all the secrets he's kept from you? Why his teeth are sharp and his hair is white? Surely you must be at least a little bit curious?"

She's torn. She wants to deny him, to say she doesn't want to know… but she does, she really does. No! She can't. She has to trust. Trust in him. They're friends. He'll tell her eventually, right?

"S-shut up… He'll tell me when he's ready." and for the first time in their entire conversation, Maka sounded unsure of her own words.

"Oh?" he says sarcastically "Just like you'll tell him about how you _murdered_ your own _mother_."

The furnace in her soul blazes out of control.

"HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW SO MUCH?" She roars, past the bounds of being livid and transported to a realm of temporary insanity. She wants to leap across the table, tackle him to the ground and… and… kill him.

He begins to laugh. Slowly at first, before it turns into a full blown cackle, spit flying and sharp teeth revealed. Slowly, the sounds die away, leaving an ominous silence in their place. "And you call _me_ a murderer. That look in your eyes just now was beautiful!" he exclaims, his eyes meeting hers in a fierce battle of wills.

"I'll tell you something interesting." He says, emotionless eyes staring emptily into her own. "Did you know that I spent _years _researching this special drug while at the same time… gathering test subjects? Now, the drug was nowhere near perfected at the time I started using it on my… subjects. At first, it caused long term memory loss, as well as changing the pigments of one's hair and eye color, and so on. After many, many white haired, red eyed failures, I decided to employ a new subordinate, one who would hopefully help me to produce some results. Her name was Medusa."

Maka gasped, fists clenching under the table.

"She was the best I had ever had. With her on our team, we progressed extensively with not only our research, but the results, too. We were researching the brain… the flow and output on emotions the brain experiences. At this point, we had even created a drug that could enhance any desired emotion of the taker, be it rage, happiness, lust, depression… whatever we wanted. We were on the track to finding and creating the exact one I wanted. That was, until Medusa got pregnant. She fled me and our team, leaving us short of our best researcher. After that, I spent _years_ searching for another. One that wouldn't turn tail and leave. I found her more than 10 years after Medusa had left. And she was in the form of a little girl, with brains to rival my own, lying on the street half dead from starvation. A perfect find. It just so turned out, that this little street rat _hated_ the world. She hated it so much, she agreed to help me. With her help, we completed the drug in almost a year. It was perfect. A drug that could cause a surge of emotion so overpowering that the victim would be consumed by that singular emotion. Lose their mind, if you will, to the overwhelming rage and hatred. They would become monsters, unable to tell friend from foe.

And you know the best part? When the drug exited their system, it would cause the brain to simulate the feeling of choking, causing the victim to claw at their own throat, and kill themselves. It was perfect in every way."

"W-why the fuck would I want to know tha-"

"My dear, I promise you that it will come in handy in the _very_ near future."


	24. Tensions Run High

**Author's note: As promised, here is the second part I didn't have time to post last night. This chapter deals more with emotions, more than actual actions. Though there are very important plot points that if you miss, you'll be going 'what the heck' for the next few chapters. **

**A big thanks to bluenian98, Drew Secrets, KirstyKakes, raelynn gross, and SAHBC for dropping a review last chapter.**

**The next chapter will be out sometime next week, and please drop a review if you have the time.**

**Please enjoy the read.**

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><p>Soul stares down at his feet, as he continues to stalk behind the rest of his dorm, completely ignoring the world around him. He's in a foul mood. He was practically shitting his pants in worry over Maka's safety for almost an hour, when she stomps back to the group an hour after she disappears, without saying anything to anyone about where she was, or what she fuck she was doing. He wasn't the only person who had a problem with that either. Hell, even Blackstar was beginning to grow fidgety by the 40th minute. Soul had even attempted to talk to her. He thought that out of his dorm, he was the closest to her. <em>Well, I thought wrong<em>, Soul thinks bitterly. He waved off his concerns and worries as if he were a noisy fly buzzing in her ear. That indifference sort of pissed him off. But, if you looked past the raging crimson orbs that were his eyes, behind the furnace that was his frustration, you would find an underlying hurt that he just couldn't quash. He honestly thought that they had… Something. They were friends, right? Friends didn't keep things from other friends.

Soul sighs heavily to himself, mentally kicking his own ass for the direction of his thoughts. He sounds like a teenage girl on the rag. Fuck no, he is Soul Eater, the epitome of 'cool' in his messed up dorm, not some whining girl. If she doesn't want to tell him, that's fine. Her fucking loss.

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><p>Maka is a wreck, Both mentally and physically. She is exhausted. She spent the weekend relaxing, and she had let her guard down so when the shit began to pile up, she was in no way prepared to deal with it all at once. Whose stupid idea was it to see the execution anyway? This whole day has been less than satisfactory. 'Oh, so what happened in your day today?' 'Oh, I don't know, I only saw the wrong man get murdered in cold blood, got hauled off to a private interrogation, got my beliefs questioned and the foundation of my reason rocked, blackmailed to help a criminal, oh, and did I mention that I'm not allowed to say anything about it, to anyone?' Yep. To sum it up, Maka has had one of the worst days she could remember.<p>

And what could possibly make this day even worse, you ask? Oh, only the fact that her dorm was offended that she didn't have the common courtesy to inform them of her whereabouts. Bullshit! If they really cared, they would keep questioning her until she finally snapped, and either told them to buzz off, or told them the truth. They weren't meant to just give her the cold shoulder. Assholes.

She is pissed off. She is pissed off at Soul, she is pissed off at her dorm, she is pissed off at the man forcing her to wade through this river of shit. But most of all, she was pissed off at herself. It was her fault she was in this mess. If she hadn't gone back, she wouldn't have gotten caught and everything would be fine and dandy. But she did go back. And she did get caught. So that gets us to where we are.

Maka kicks the ground in frustration. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and there is a scowl upon her lips. She's pissed off. But she's also hurt. She… She really needs someone right now. Too much shit has happened too quickly for her to keep up. To be honest she wanted – no - needed someone to be able to deal with it. To be stronger than she is. To be able to look her in the eyes, right after she lied to their face, tell her it is alright and to just tell them when she is ready. And for some reason, she really felt like that person, who would help her stand, and give her a shoulder to lean on, would be Soul.

She is really trying to control her body. She knows that she is shaking slightly and her coloring is getting more and more unnatural as the minutes pass. It is rare for her to be unable to control herself, but the pile of crap the day has piled up on her shoulders is getting too heavy. Every other time she has felt like this, she has been at least in private. But right here, in a public place… is very bad. _Okay Maka, think_. It is perfectly within Soul's right to give her the cold shoulder, because she waved off his concern. He didn't do anything wrong. It was her fault to begin with. _He's your friend. Just get over it and get your ass over there to apologize. _

Though she agrees wholeheartedly with her conscious, she feels that she just… can't. He has this unreachable aura around him that she had never noticed before. Was it because he never put it up in front of her, or she just managed to ignore it until now?

When she is alone, she can calm herself. In fact, what she really wants to do is… is… is cry. She doesn't know why this hurts, but it does - badly. Her chest is in unbearable pain and there was this horrible fire in her stomach. Her head and eyes hurt a thousand times over. Something is very wrong right now, and it's more than just the events of the day hanging over her head. Small fingernails attached to fingers with white knuckles dig into the tender palms of her hands. _I __**must **__control my emotions._

_What are my emotions?_ She knows that she has never had this feeling before. She has seen people give her the cold shoulder before, so what is her problem? What is so different about this than the other situations? If she is to be honest, all of the others hurt as well. She hated watching it, but at least she could close her eyes and count backwards. By that point, they would be gone. As she attempts to logically sort this out, the issue becomes evident. So, it isn't that it didn't hurt before; it's just that she could turn a blind eye to it. This time, she actually cared about what he thinks of her.

Why though? Why does she care so much more about what he thinks about her, and does, than her other friends? How come the only time she feels truly relaxed and at peace is when both he and she are lounging around on the couch, watching old Western movies with empty boxes of takeaway stacked high around them?

Maka can no longer understand herself. She bows her head and closes her eyes. Inhaling deeply, she holds her breath for a few seconds and exhales slowly. She can still feel the fire in her belly, but from her heart up, she is frozen. She opens her eyes slowly and when she raises her head, she could stare Stein into a coma. Her face is screwed on tightly and her posture is rigid.

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><p>They reach the dorm almost an hour later. Soul's clothes have dried somewhat; they are no longer sheets of ice attached to his skin, but a sticky layer that provides minimum warmth. No one else is in much better condition. Soul wants to just get changed, collapse into bed, and hopefully not wake up for the next 40 years. Too much has happened in a singular day for him to keep up. To be perfectly honest with himself, if he could choose out of anything about what he wanted to do, it would be to watch old movies while eating takeaway on the couch with Maka. It had become a sort of ritual between the two of them over the past week. He would love to just fall asleep to the sound of gunshots and Maka's snores, before waking up with a bad back, upside-down and on the floor because Maka kicked him off the couch in the middle of the night. Then he remembers what happened today, and the current not-speaking… ness between them.<p>

_Get your ass over to her room and apologize!_ He hates how much sense his brain is making. He felt almost guilty near the end of the walk home. When his anger had drained away, leaving a bitter acceptance in its place, concern once again flooded his veins. She looked exhausted. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, there were dark rims around her eyes, and for the first time ever, her eyes looked…empty. It scared the hell out of him. He should have apologized back then. But no. His stupid pride got in the way.

He pulls on his pajamas, quickly and efficiently, throwing his dirty, wet clothes in the corner of his room. Showers can wait. He exits his room, walking three steps to Maka's, before pulling the door open without any warning. He expects to feel a large text book imbed itself in his brain, but is left in surprised shock when he finds the room empty. She's not in her room. Then where could she be? He didn't hear any sounds coming from the kitchen either. He searches the apartment like a madman, barging into everyone's room without permission, turning over sofas and tables as he went.

Where the fuck did she go? He swears she entered the dorm with everyone else. Did she go out again?

He plonks himself in the living room in the centre of the mess he made. He'll wait for her to come back. He owes her that much, at least.

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><p>Maka's nerves are frayed. She jumps at the slightest sound coming from any direction. Her hands will not stop trembling, and her eyes are permanently wide. It is dark now, the sun having set long ago. It was a moonless night. There was no pale light filling the empty street, only a pitch black that Maka found herself surprisingly able to navigate through. The dorm was only a couple hundred meters away now. She has spent almost 5 hours doing the 'little favor' requested of her by that man. She doesn't understand why he asked her to do it in the first place. It was much more complicated than it sounded. But surely he could have done it? 'Turn off the Shibusen alarm system'. Sounds simple, like something you see in those Spy Kids movies, where there is one large red button in some heavily guarded room. But it wasn't. It required hacking into the security mainframe, and altering the coding behind the security program they use. Why she was even able to do such a thing, she didn't know. But she could. It was like it was imbedded into her brain, something that she knew on some level that she could do, but was not aware of in consciousness.<p>

She doesn't feel 'free' like she should. She did what he told her to, and that was the end of it, right? Then why did it feel like she has been caught in a daunting web of lies and dark secrets, never meant to reach the light of day? She sighs. At least all this sneaking in had distracted her from her current… dilemma with her so called friends. She had to fix this. Apologize, maybe? But how would they take it if she still can't divulge what exactly happened? Maka sighs.

She wonders if anyone is still awake. Actually, she kind of hopes not. She wants to deal with all that emotional baggage tomorrow. What she really wants to do is eat something warm, put on a large tee shirt, wrap a blanket around her tightly and unify her fragmented thoughts.

She is only steps away from the front door now. She reaches for the knob, glad that her limbs have stopped their uncontrollable shaking. To her surprise, the door is unlocked. She swings the door open and takes one, then two steps inside. All the lights are out, and she actually thinks the inside of the dorm is darker than outside. She pulls the door closed behind her, as she tip-toes silently towards her room. What she doesn't expect to find is a pair of hardened crimson orbs staring at her from across the room.

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><p>She doesn't even get time to wonder why Soul is sitting cross legged on the ground, surrounded by turned over chairs and tables, before he is on two feet and fast approaching in her direction.<p>

"Where the hell have you been!" He snaps, with fists clenched, his face now only inches away from her own. _Soul, Soul, backtrack here! This is meant to be an apology!_ He should probably listen to himself, but is too pissed off and worried to care right now. What the fuck has she been doing? He even called some of the teacher's offices, and none had so much as caught a glimpse of her. So what the shit? He wanted answers, and there was no way he was going to let her wave him off again.

"Nowhere! Don't worry about it. Just let me go to bed." She lashes out in response, like a wounded animal backed into a corner. She wants to escape this conversation before this even starts, or escalates. Not for her sake. But for his.

"No way. I waited 5 hours for you to get your ass back here, I think I deserve a descent explanation in the very least!" His voice is harsh and low, as Maka cringes at his tone. She can't look him in the eyes. She just can't. She needs a moment to make sure her insides are as steadied as her face is emotionless.

"I didn't ask you to wait for me. You did that on your own accord. Besides, it's none of your business anyway." She replies, her voice completely toneless. He is shocked. He has never heard her use that tone with him… ever. He's seen her frustrated, he's seen her pissed off beyond belief, but he's never seen this… coldness. He hates it. It's like she's wearing a mask. He wants to tear the mask off, so he can see what she is really feeling.

"Look at me." He demands, his hands balled into tight fists after her last comment.

Still with her eyes turned towards the floor, she replies in the same emotionless tone "There is no need. Just let me past so I can go to sleep, Soul."

If frustration was an Olympic sport, Soul would have the gold medal. She absolutely refuses to look at him. He just… he just wants to fucking understand her! Is that really too much to ask?

"No! I can't let you! First at the execution grounds, and now here as well. Wasn't it _you_ who told me never to lie to someone's face!"

"This is different!" She argues, as the burning sensation behind her eyelids grows so intense that she can no longer hold back the hot tears that trail their way down her cheek, conjoining at the base of her chin.

"No it's not! We care Maka! If you're in trouble, tell us! We want to help you!"

"Just stay out of it! It's none of your business!" She shouts in response, rubbing furiously at the tears that won't stop falling. She was at breaking point.

"YES IT IS! STOP PUSHING EVERYBODY AWAY! IF YOU JUST LET SOMEBODY IN FOR A CHANGE, MAYBE YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS ALONE!" he all but screams. The dorm has all woken up by the volume of their argument, but don't dare to intervene.

"NONE OF YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND! THAT'S WHY I KEEP SAYING TO STAY OUT OF IT!"

"YES WE WOULD!" They were both panting from the energy it took to shout, their foreheads resting against each other's as their hot breath ran down the other's neck. They were both at their wits end.

"F-fuck you Soul." She growls, the emerald fire in her eyes blazing out of control. The anger and frustration between them at that moment slowly bled into something else. Both were flushed from lack of oxygen, and their close proximity had never made an impact until that moment.

"Fuck you too, Maka." He replies, before closing the gap between their lips.


	25. Confessions

**Author's Note - W-w-wha? I don't even know what to say. The response I got to my last chapter was probably the biggest, like...ever. Not just ever, but ever ever. It was amazing! I'm actually speechless. I want to thank SoulxMakaLover97, , KirstyKakes, DuskAngel12, SAHCB, Drew Secrets, bluenian98, raelynn gross, Samanthabaker, -ramennoodles-o.O, GrossGirl18, Gingiie666, wombattree, New Neon, xHoshixnoxKaabiixfanx, ColorMeApathy, spixie303, nitemaren, and last but definitely not least, Thatguyuare. Thank you all so much for your support throughout my whole story, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story.**

**A response to a number of reviews - Gosh darn it! I honestly thought I came up with something original at the end of last chapter, and was patting myself on the shoulder for a job well done. Then I find out it is one of the cliché clichés around. I had honestly never read it before in anything, so I thought it was original. Maybe I just need to read more, I guess XP **

**Oh, and I want to add just quickly, that there is a reason for almost everything in this story. There is meaning behind every action and every word, you just have to find it. In this chapter, we finally delve into Maka's past, as some old hints should finally start to make some sense. **

**Please leave a review if you have time, and if at all possible, enjoy the read!**

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><p>There was no gentleness about it, there were no tender butterfly kisses, there were no shy licks, there were no innocent probes; this was complete and utter dominance of a kiss, meant for one purpose and one purpose alone: to satisfy and quench the burning and the pain inside of Maka Albarn.<p>

She returns his gesture, with equal if not more fervor than he. She didn't want him to be gentle, she didn't want him to kiss her with tenderness and slowly building passion, she didn't want him to hold her in his arms and whisper sweet nothings into her ear while she dozed into a peaceful sleep. She did not want the thoughts and the feelings that came within the safety of his arms. She did not want to feel the stirring in her heart and the throbbing in her chest whenever she saw him sleeping beside her. She did not want him to be her missing piece. She did not want to need him.

What she wanted was pain and pleasure combined in such a dizzying rush that nothing of this nature could ever be thought of again. She wanted to stop caring about every little thing he said or thought. She wanted her heart to stop feeling the way it did every time she made contact with fiery orbs. She wanted him to stop etching himself so deeply into her memories and her heart, that she would never be able to forget him. She wanted him to be like any other man. She wanted him to be a nameless face without defining characteristics or anything that would set him apart from the others.

But most of all… most of all… She wanted to stop falling in love with him.

Maka's hands tangle themselves in the back of Soul's hair, as his own clasp awkwardly around her midsection, not entirely sure whether they should venture upwards, or downwards, or just stay where they were.

He has no fucking idea what he was doing. He was the instigator of this, right? What made him do it? She was his best friend for god's sakes! You don't just go around kissing your best friend!

Did he do it to get her to shut up? No. There was more feeling to it than that, more emotional depth to the kiss. Actually, it was less like a 'kiss' than it was a war for dominance. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised by that, seeing as they both had assertive, fairly dominant personalities. He can _feel_ her anger and terror, through the kiss, by the way her teeth clack roughly against his, and the way she is tense beneath his hands. Did he want this? Did she really mean more to him than 'just a friend'?

_Well, you better bloody figure it out, you're kissing her for gods sakes! _Right. His conscious has a point there. But that was his main problem, he didn't _know_ what he felt towards her. How do you know anyway? He has never been in this sort of situation before in his life, and has no clue how to deal with it.

Okay, okay Soul, just think clearly about this. Yes, he cares for her. Yes, he cares for her probably the most out of all his friends. Yes, he has less than decent thoughts about her on more than one occasion. Did that mean that he likes her?

Soul growls into the kiss. Fuck all that. He would think about the ramifications later. Right now, all that mattered were his lips on hers.

They part almost a minute later, when the need to breathe becomes too much. They are both flushed, and panting slightly, -Soul more so- but even so, Soul can see as plain as day her emotions swirling in the depths of her eyes, which were concealed only minutes beforehand. She sighs, allowing her forehead to rest against his, all the while staring straight into his eyes, desperately attempting to figure out what they had just done. She found no answers, if anything, he was just as if not more confused than she was.

"What happened today?" He breathes out at last, his eyes are half lidded, and his breathing has evened out somewhat, - that is not to say his heart is still pounding as if he had just run a marathon.

Maka is taxed. She is too exhausted to try and dodge the question this time. She guesses she will have to tell him the very basics of what happened. She would tell him the raw, undeniable facts that he has a good chance for figuring out himself. Because any more than that would put his life in danger. And under no circumstances, will Maka _ever_ do that intentionally.

"I'll explain in my room." She says shortly, lifting her head and motioning towards her door. Well, at least she wasn't blocking him out anymore. He still refuses to think too deeply about what he just did. Sorting out his messed up feelings comes in second, to finding out what has put Maka in such a state of fear. He honestly has never seen her 'scared' before. Sure, he's seen her stunned, surprised, worried and anxious, but never has he seen her in such a state of terror. He has to know why.

As they swing open the door and walk into Maka's room, five pairs of eyes watch them go, with varying emotions such as surprise, smugness, horror, amusement, and even relief.

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><p>Maka takes a seat on the far end of her bed, gesturing to the spot beside her for him to sit. He complies with her silent query, following the motion of her hand and taking a seat beside her. Her hands are fidgeting, and her eyes dart around the room nervously. She is anxious. He can tell that much.<p>

"So, are you going to tell me anything?" He asks, eyes studying the room veiled in a layer of shadow. Not even a sliver of moonlight filtered into the room. Weird.

"About what?" Maka replys with a sheepish smile.

"About astrophysics! What the fuck? You know exactly what I'm talking about." She sighs once more, her darkened orbs still refusing to meet shouldering eyes.

"Soul, when you were watching the execution, did you get the feeling that something was just…wrong?" She starts, with a wave of her hands to emphasise her words. "Like, out of place?" she adds, raising her eyebrows.

Soul's previously scrunched brows lift in surprise. So this was all connected?

"Yeah. That guard who carted you away felt wrong to me. I don't know what it was about him." He pauses, struggling to find the right words to describe the emotion that flooded his veins when he laid eyes on the guard. "I think it was is face… I never saw it properly, but it looked like he was smiling at me…" Soul trails off, slightly unsure of his own words. He can't find a way of vocalizing his answer, in a way that can be interpreted easily. How do you explain what _fear_ feels like?

"He-" She pauses momentarily, as if trying to carefully pick and choose her next words. "The prisoner and the guard switched places Soul. The guard was executed, and the prisoner lives on in his place." It takes a moment for Soul to comprehend the sheer gravity of her words. W-what did she just say? That…that _monster _was not only still alive, but _free?_ "That's why I went back! I had to check whether it was true or not…"

Soul's eyes remain wide, his pupils the size of a pin prick as all colour begins to drain out of his face. T-the guard dragged Maka off into the mist….She was gone, she had disappeared for over an hour. She was alone with the guard at that time…t-that means that she was alone with the monster? He may have had a heart attack or six, before he was even able to think of formulating a response to this information. N-no fucking wonder she didn't want to talk about it. What did that sick bastard do to her? There is a rage burning in his gut that he has never felt before. It's more powerful than any rage or anger that he has ever felt, as it is his fury at both the criminal for daring to harm her, and…and at himself, for not protecting her.

"M-Maka… Tell me what he did. Tell me what that sick fuck did, and I'll tear him apart!" Soul all but snarls, as Maka's expression filters into one of surprise.

"S-soul… he didn't _do_ anything… " she pauses, face twisting into a grimace as her voice comes out as a strangled whisper "It was the things he said."

"What did he say?" He says in a calmer tone than before. It wasn't that he was less furious. God no, it was because he knows that at this point, he is so angry, he is literally unable to display the enormity of his fury. And he refuses to do so in front of her. Later, he can be angry, kick doors closed and punch walls. But right now, she needs him to listen. And he will. This was what he wanted in the first place, wasn't it?

"H-he knew things Soul… things that he shouldn't have known." She bites out, eyes never leaving the carpet floor of her room. "He kept talking to me like I knew him, like we were friends…"

"Don't listen to him. He's just some deranged fuck out to get to you.." He tries to assure her, but she quickly silences him with a short shake of her head. Her lower lip is trembling now, as she fights to control the pitch of her voice.

"H-he called me a murderer…" She eventually forces out, as Soul's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. He thinks his heart may have stopped beating. Maka? A murderer..?

"Bullshit. I'll admit you're in pain in the ass, annoying as hell, short tempered violent and a book worm…but…but you're Maka. There's no way you're a-" His breath catches in his throat, as he suddenly finds himself unable to force out the words. "What you said."

"B-but he knew Soul!.. He knew about my mother!" She chokes out. No longer is it her hands trembling, but her entire body. She can't stop herself from shaking.

H-her mother? There's no way… Maka's Maka. There's no way she is capable of killing anyone…right?

"You're mother?"

"I killed her Soul." She says in a tone so low, so flat, so lacking of any kind of emotion, so _dead_ that it sends shivers down his spine. "It's my fault she's gone."

"No!" he tries to protest. Maka… Maka isn't a murderer! She shushes him, by placing her index finger softly over his lips, and shaking her head sadly.

"Once upon a time, there was a little girl." Maka says with a faraway look in her eyes. "She lived with her mother and father, and though her belly was never full, and her cuts would linger on and the sun never seemed to shine, she was happy. She didn't understand why animals lived in their house, and why she was only able to wear one dress a week. But she didn't question it, because it didn't matter to her. As long as the only two people in her entire world, stayed by her side, she would be happy for the rest of her life."

Maka closes her eyes, as she speaks softly slowly and gently. Memories of her mother flood her head and her eyes snap open when her mother's voice floats around the room and around her skin, around her body, holding her and rocking her. She was six again, she was gentle again, she was young and happy again, and she had her mama. She was the Maka Albarn that smiled and laughed and hugged her mother just because she needed to feel her warmth. Her mother radiated around her and held her close, touching every fiber of her body, going through her and living, alive and awake. Maka was suddenly somewhere else.

She was gone.

She was with her mom.

Soul stares at Maka's glazed over eyes. Where was she? Her voice continues to talk, but she wasn't in the same room as him. Her mind is somewhere else, he knew that look. That distant look that brought you somewhere else, that took you places you dared not go if you were conscious about what you were doing. Her eyes held a place he felt he had no right to go. She was not with him at this moment, she was somewhere beyond his comprehension. Maka had fallen into a deep whole of 'Alice In Wonderland.' She was long gone. She had fallen so deep, he wondered if she had landed yet. He watches as her eyes search frantically; not really looking at anything fore she was in her own place at the moment. Soul feels out of place. He feels as if this was a place for Maka and Maka only. He feels as if he were intruding on something, or somewhere he had no place being.

"One day, the girl's father started coming home from work later, and later and the girl's mother started to get sick. It started off very minor, and coincidentally, when her papa disappeared for a night, her mama would get sick and be in bed ridden for days after. The little girl knew at some level, that something was going wrong."

Soul had a horrible feeling that this story did not have a happy ending.

"In the next few years, it continued to worsen. Her papa would disappear, and sometimes take her with him, just so she would sit outside of flashy buildings waiting for her papa who never seemed to be there anymore. The little girl's mama was too weak to get out of bed soon after. The little girl was smart for her age, and had worked out that the two were connected. The little girl thought, that because Mama got sick, papa would disappear. She didn't understand that it was the other way round."

Soul's eyes are hard and there is the faintest hint of worry across their surface. He has a very bad feeling he knows what was going on.

"Papa had been gone for 7 days, and the little girl was scared. She went to her mother, and began to plead with her. 'mama, mama, please bring papa back!' The little girl's mother told the girl that Papa may never come back to them. The little girl didn't understand. She thought that mama was the reason papa kept on disappearing. 'Mama, stop making papa go away! I want us all to be a family again!' the little girl cried, and tears began to fall from her mother's eyes too. Then there was shouting. The little girl yelled and cried and pleaded, while her mother yelled back. Both the mother and the little girl looked so frustrated, so scared, and in so much pain… There was a singular slap by the little girl's mother, and all the girl's cries instantly ceased. The little girl ran out of the tiny room, tears cascading down her cheeks and the words '_I hate you'_ slipping off her tongue."

Soul can't stand it anymore. To watch her break down before him, while he sits lazily on his ass while she goes through it alone. Placing an arm cautiously around her shoulder, he pulls her to his chest, allowing her to bury her face in his jacket, without protest.

"The little girl wondered around alone for days afterwards. She refused to return home. Deep inside her heart, she knew something was terribly wrong. Bottles of chemicals her mother told her never to touch, kept disappearing and it all started years before, when papa first started disappearing. At that time, the little girl couldn't comprehend what it meant."

Soul tenses as her words come out in barely a whisper. He really hates it when he is right about things like this. He pulls her closer to his chest. She continues on, her voice not faultering.

"When the little girl returned home days later, bruised, beaten and broken, she whimpered before tottering over to her mother's bed, and snuggling under the covers with the only piece of her world left, in the black, black void that was reality."

He feels the shaking return, even when she has a tight grip on his shirt.

"I-it was dark… the little girl couldn't see how her mother's eyes remained permanently open, and how she was coated in a sticky red substance." She chokes out her next sentence, thick with despair and sorrow.

"S-she was so _cold_, Soul"

He can feel the wet stains of her tears, soaking though his jumper, but he doesn't care. He is shaking too. How she managed to come out of this traumatic experience, he will never know.

"Shhh don't talk anymore" he hushes, his eyes screwed shut and jaw tight. " you don't have to say anything."

Partly, because it is obvious how much of an effect the words have upon her, and partly, because it is effecting him to a degree he can't even begin to fathom.

"T-then I tried to warm her up…" She chokes out, her voice strangled and only just managing to fight back tears. "I kept asking 'mama what's wrong? Why are you so cold?"

"Maka!" He silences her with a desperate yell. "It's alright. Y-you don't have to say anything.."

"I murdered her Soul. I killed her with my words…"

There was no tenderness in her actions, Soul noted as she clung to him. Only desperation.

It was at that moment that Soul realized he was in far too deep.

* * *

><p>DING DONG!<p>

_What the hell is that?_

DING DONG!

"Mmmm… " He is warm and content. There is a pleasant weight against his body. Squeezing his arms together, he recognizes it as Maka. She's a little furnace.

DING DONG!

Maybe if he ignores it, it will go away.

DING DONG!

A mumbled yawn speaks unintelligibly. "Seriously. What the fuck?"

Blinking rapidly, his eyes squint hard and he searches about the room. Reaching over to his phone to read three o'clock in the morning, a white head of hair falls back to the padded cloth. It wasn't the alarm.

DING DONG!

A noise is rousing the girl out of her sleep. She buries her face down into Soul's warmth with an adjoining whine. "Soul, turn off the alarm."

Maka is starting to squirm. That, he does not want. Strangely, he understands her mumbles. "It's not the alarm. Go back to sleep." He inhales deeply and rubs the length of her back. Maka's warm and soft body pressed to his under covers causes him to drift off, as she stills, once again.

DING DONG!

Both parties' heads snap to look at each other.

DING DONG!

_The doorbell. Shit!_

Maka leaps out of bed like a startled cat, eyes wide as Soul is a little slower on the uptake, grumbling as he forces himself upright. Maka is already at the door by the time he is on his feet, as he pads quickly after her as she enters the main room.

Seconds later they are both standing before the door to the apartment, the only company in the living rooms were shadows of the furniture. Faint grumbles begin to echo from the other rooms, but apart from that, it was dead silent.

Maka carefully unlatches the door Soul assisting, and when the heavy thing creaks open, her eyes go wide as the person on the other side is someone she hadn't expected to see.

Stein's mouth is set in a grim line, his eyes are hard and frantic, as the dart from Maka to Soul, and back again. For once, there is no cigarette in his mouth, and Maka thinks it is the first time she has ever seen him have some kind of emotion splaying over his features.

"Rouse the rest of your dorm. Lock all doors and windows, and none of you are allowed to leave this area until I say so. GO!" He commands, as Maka flinches at the tone of his voice. He sounds weird. He sounds like he's….scared.

"Why?" Soul snaps with a weary white eyebrow arched in speculation. His brain does not, and never will function properly at 3am.

Stein's words are cold and emotionless. They cut through the dead silence and tension with ease, shattering the lives of more than one individual.

"An entire dorm has been slaughtered. The culprit is still on the loose."

Maka freezes in her tracks, choking on her own spit as she reckons her heart actually stops beating.

"W-What?"


	26. After the First Death pt1

**Author's Note: This chapter was originally the first part of a longer one, but I decided to split it into pieces. This story is going to get quite dark as it progresses, as is not incredibly graphic violence and explicit scenes, but not something you would want to be reading alone at 4am in the morning. ;P **

**This chapter is not about the romance slowly developing between Soul and Maka – no matter how much I want to write about it – it deals with the ramifications of the actuall plotline, and deals with the outcomes of the actions Maka took at the execution. More questions will be rasied, and I will say this once. You won't see it now, but there is a reason for **_**everything**_** that happens in this story. **

**A big thank you to Drew Secrets, The Illusionist's Wings04, raelynn gross, NaLu xxx, bluenian98, wombattree, nitemaren, vampireacademygirls, Haru-Kaede, -ramennoodles-o.O, FoxyBunny, ., .., and Rokunami123 for your amazing reviews. It's really nice to see people actually bothering to drop a response these days. Thank you again ,to anyone and everyone who has ever left me a review, or bothered to check out my story!**

**This chapter would have been out earlier, but I decided to draw a wallpaper for my friend's birthday instead. You can check it out if you want, the link is below. **

http : / / gone-phishing . /#/d4eaplw

**Please drop a review if you have time, and thank you for reading.**

**Enjoy!**

Maka hasn't moved an inch in the entire minute after the words left Stein's mouth. 'Slaughtered' is running through her mind endlessly, like a scratched record stuck on repeat. Her mouth is dry and there is a horrible sinking feeling curling in her gut. She wants to throw up.

Soul shakes her arm lightly, an expression of pure concern crossing his features. He could hardly believe what he had just heard, but the immediate danger has taken precedence over his curiosity and fear about what had actually happened. He and Maka needed to wake the rest of the dorm. Not wanted, _needed_. Because if they didn't, who knows what could happen? He shakes her harshly this time, attempting to gain her attention. "Maka! Let's go!" he growls harshly into her ear, his hot breath running across her neck, bringing her out of her daze.

"Y-yeah…" she all but whispers, turning away from Stein and towards the other doors. Soul nods at her as she goes, turning towards a different door, creeping towards it silently. He needs to wake the occupants, but not cause a ruckus. The more noise, the more obvious they are. That is the last thing they want. He opens the door, mindful not to let it creak, as he pads into the room. He can't see whose it is, but judging by the bright blue hair spilling out from the back of the covers, he guesses it is Blackstar's. Soul takes another cautious step, but is stopped when his toe stubs against something hard, something big and something heavy. It is all he can do to hold back a loud curse. The blue haired boy is snoring loudly, his limbs are tangled with the sheets, and he is blowing a bubble out of his nose. Soul grimaces, as he carefully takes another step with his other foot this time – his wounded toe needs time to heal. This time, instead of making contact with something large and hard, when he places his foot on the ground, he manages to step on something small and sharp this time. He can't help but hiss as whatever the hell he just stepped on digs into the soft flesh of the skin between his the ball and the heel of his foot. This room is a freakin' minefield!

_Screw this_ Soul thinks to himself, as he leans down and carefully picks up an object from the floor. It is relatively heavy and is slightly larger than the palm of his hand. With precision equal to that of a blind monkey, he ditched the item towards the lump nestled under the covers. A second later, Blackstar was up, rearing to shout, fists flying and legs kicking, but Soul managed to intercept him before he could make a sound. With one palm over his friend's mouth, he leans on a dangerous angle over the bed, his feet refusing to meet a painful demise to Blackstar's floor. The situation comes crashing back over the white-haired boy's head as his playful frown turns into a full blown scowl.

"Don't make any noise, and come into the main room. Something's happened…" Soul whispers under his breath, removing his hand from his friends mouth, only to gasp in horror at the spit covering his palm. Blackstar has his tongue stuck out childishly, before leaping out of bed, and leaving the room, somehow without puncturing his feet. Soul makes it out a minute later, at least thirty foreign objects embedded into his.

As Soul exits the room, he immediately sees the rest of the dorm in the centre of the living room. They are all seated on the floor, and even Blackstar appears to be subdued for the moment. He crosses the room with an increased pace, as the further away from his dorm he is, the more danger he feels he's in. His skin is crawling ,and it feels like there are hundreds of eyes watching his every move.

Stein is seated in the corner of the room on an old wooden chair, where he melds in seamlessly to the shadows of the corner of the room. Soul almost collapses when he reaches the others, falling to his knees, before crossing his legs. There is absolute silence. It's so loud, it's deafening. Maka's eyes remain downcast. She can't bring herself to look at anyone in the eye. Her stomach is wrenching, and trying to force bile up her throat. She feels just _sick_. Suddenly, a thought crosses her mind. She has a basic understanding of how the doors at Shibusen work. She has read up on it before… how did it go again? Ah, she remembers now. Shibusen has an unusual amount of security on its doors, for even a private school. The doors to the rooms and the dorms themselves are almost impenetrable. Not even bullets have the capability to break through them. The _only_ way to enter is with a key. And even then, the alarm systems go off if the doors are opened after a certain time anyway. B-but… he asked her to turn off the alarm. Even so, he shouldn't have been able to get in… right?

"Stein." She starts, her voice is weak and exhausted. Guilt plagues the edges, but no one catches it. "How did this happen?" She can see his head turn slowly from the shadows, until his glasses face her directly, the glare almost blinding her for a second or two.

"We don't know that yet." He begins to explain, his voice emotionless. "The dorm that was found was Asuza's dorm. It was a…" He pauses, attempting to find a word explicit enough to describe the vile aftermath. "A massacre. There was blood all over the walls, splinters of bone, even…" The majority of the dorm began to lose their colouring slightly. Kid is shuddering, and Tsubaki has a green tint to her face. But, Stein is not one to leave out any detail, no matter how gruesome. "The bodies were so… beaten, they weren't even recognizable. The police are on their way, but until they get here, we have to stay like this."

Maka's eyes are permanently wide, and her pupils dilated. B-beaten? As in, beaten to death? She shudders horribly. For some reason, it brings up a faint tingle of reminiscence she doesn't even _want_ to place.

"B-but how did the murderer even get in? I thought the Shibusen dorms were safe?" Tsubaki asks. You can hear the tremble in her voice. Blackstar is unusually silent, and out of the whole dorm, it is actually Liz and Patty who appear the least disturbed.

Stein sighs heavily, rubbing his temples with his right hand, while attempting to fish out a cigarette from his coat with his left. "They are meant to be. They're still trying to figure out how the murderer got in, in the first place. We know that every child in that dorm is dead. And we know that the dorm leader is missing, and presumed dead also…" Stein says matter-of-factly. They need to know this. No matter how sick it makes them feel, they need to know what happened.

"As many of you already know, the Shibusen dorms don't exactly work the same way many other dorms do. If someone enters the dorm, even with a key past a certain time, the alarm will go off regardless. There were no broken windows, and the alarm didn't go off. This could mean one of two things." He takes a deep breath, watching every brow in the room furrow at his words. "Either, the alarms were switched off, and the murderer had a key… or… Or the murderer was already _in_ the room, and just waited until now to strike…"

Every eye in the room is as wide as a dinner plate. Some mouths hang open, and only one in the entire room has an emotion that differs from shock written all across their face.

"How did the murderer get in?" Maka asks, her tone of voice different from before. It lacked any trace of the joyous girl everyone in the room had come to know, and instead was filled with only detachment. Even Stein looked taken aback for a moment. Soul can't stop staring at Maka. She doesn't look right… Shadows cover her face like a cloak made out of darkness… but… but he can see her eyes. He wishes he couldn't. They were not the eyes he had come to depend on. They lacked that fiery spark that ignited every argument between them, it lacked the faint hint of sadness he had come to associate with her and her past, but most of all, it lacked the light… the light that made it _human._ He wants to turn away, but he can't. It's like there's some otherworldly force gravitating his eyes towards hers, and keeping his vision focused there.

Stein speaks up, the uncomfortable tension rising in the room becoming almost unbearable. "We found flecks of dried blood in the key hole. It was old, days old. Whoever did it has a key to _all_ of the Shibusen dorms."

Maka's eyes are the only ones in the room that do not widen in the slightest from Stein's last statement.

Maka doesn't know what happened. One minute, she's all normal and sitting with her dorm in the living room. Granted, it wasn't the most regular of situations, but she was still there. Right now, though… she feels different. She can't control her mouth. She notices she sounds different too. There is a new sensation curling in the depths of her belly. She can faintly feel it is akin to rage. But it is… different than anything she has ever felt before. It wasn't hot, boiling and fiery. It was freezing. It was anger, but at the same time, it was so much more. It continues to rise, and with every second, she feels like it is going to take over. It was fury, but at the same time it wasn't. A word floats to the surface of her mind. _Hatred_. Hatred? Why? What did she hate, and why was it so strong?

Soul watches in worry as Maka's dull eyes slowly regain their colour and light. He is relieved beyond all words. He doesn't know what just happened to her, but as long as she is alright, he is satisfied.

Maka is gasping for breath. She managed to fight it back. But what was it anyway? She doesn't ever remembering feeling that way towards anyone before. There was so much _hatred_. She doesn't even know what it was directed towards. As the colour runs back into her cheeks, her previous feelings return at full force. The sadness. The fear. The _guilt._ She instantly feels sick.

It's her fault… it's her fault that this is happening. If she hadn't done what he said… they wouldn't have had to die! _But are their lives worth Soul's?_ She freezes as the thought runs through her mind. What kind of monster is she? She would sacrifice multiple lives just for the sake of saving Soul? She feels like breaking down. It's a disturbing realization, but at the same time, it is as if she already knew it.

Soul nudges her shoulder gently. He is scared for her. She looks _sick_ now, like she is about to hurl.

That is surprisingly close to the truth. Maka has to clamp a hand over her mouth. She makes wild gestures to Stein as he moves to help her. She turns and heads towards the bathroom before either Soul or Stein can stop her. She is out of Soul's sight in less than a second.

Why didn't she take him with her? Why did she leave him alone again? W-what if something happens? She's in there all alone.

"Stein…" Soul starts, glancing at his leader for guidance. Stein spares him a short glance, heading back over to his chair, before plopping down and sighing once more.

"She'll be back in a minute. Nothing will happen, don't worry." Soul silently disagrees.

Maka is hunched over the tiny sink, dark bags under her eyes and tears slowly running down her cheek. The horrible guilt won't leave her alone. It is enough to make her feel physically sick. She retches again, feeling the vile liquid crawl up the back of her throat, just enough to taste and feel it, but not enough to force it out. She looks like walking death. The day has just been too much. Too much has happened too quickly. She feels like collapsing, just so she can wake up the next morning, and be told that all the horrible things that have happened were all part of some stupid dream.

Maka's whole body stiffens, and she completely freezes when she hears what sounds like a faint scratching sound come from outside the window. She flinches violently, as bright flash of lightning strikes, and the tiny room is briefly lit up to a pale white.

_Calm it._ She tries to talk to herself_ it was nothing._

The light fades soon after, the darkness ever more oppressive. There is a faint sound of something scraping outside.

She hears it again. Her heart is pounding loudly in her ears, as her breaths quicken. It sounds like something scratching against glass. Her mind makes a connection that she doesn't even want to know how she knows. For some reason, she knows that the sound is fingernails. Fingernails grating against glass.

A faint choking sound echoes in the tiny bathroom. Maka's hands are cupping her mouth, in a desperate attempt to stop herself from screaming.

The lightning flashes once more, with a loud crash, just as the sound of glass shattering fills the air. The room is lit up once more, to reveal a bloodied hand reaching through the window, only inches away from her face.

Maka screams and screams and screams.


	27. After the First Death pt2

**Author's Note; This is part 2 of 3 of this little arc I have going here. Now, this is fairly dark right now, but that is important to the story. Even re-reading parts of this chapter made me cringe XD **

**I want to thank wombattree, Mouers, Thatguyuare, Drew Secrets, Gingiie666, Eieriann, KirstyKakes and raelynn gross for taking the time to review my last chapter. You guys deserve some sort of reward ;P**

**On another note, I finally reached 200 reviews and 80,000 words (which I am still having trouble believing.) I remember as if it was only yesterday, when I started typing this little plot bunny out, because of pure boredom. **

**Please enjoy, and leave a review if you have time. Thank you again!**

* * *

><p>Morbid<p>

Suggesting an unhealthy metal state or attitude; unwholesomely gloomy, sensitive, extreme, ect : a morbid interest in death.

Affected by, caused by, causing, or characteristic of disease.

Pertaining to diseased parts: _morbid anatomy_.

Gruesome; grisly.

* * *

><p>Maka has encountered some pretty terrifying things in her time on this planet. She lived in the slums for the most part of her life, where stealing and murder were a common occurrence. Finding cold, dead bodies in alleyways, hunched over with lifeless eyes staring straight at you was not rare. In fact, you were more likely to encounter a dead body than you were to encounter someone who earned a suitable income. It was a harsh life, but, it was her life. Even as she grew up into a shorter than average, flat chested teenager, her life did not improve. Without a mother to guide her, she had never felt more alone in the world. And there were people out there willing to take advantage of that. She has spent her whole life fighting, in one way or another. Back then, she didn't have time to care about the flimsy bonds which made up 'friendship' or her looks, or her family, like most other girls her age did. She didn't have time to worry whether her hair was clean, when she hadn't washed her body in a month. For the most part after her mother was gone, she wore a cap over her hair hiding the pigtails she used to wear proudly alongside her mother. Besides, back then, the more of a girl she looked like, the more of a target she was for drunken men. Most thought she was a boy, which deterred the majority, unless they were the type of degenerate that wanted a little boy. She was lucky. Not a single one had gotten what they wanted. But even then, she had seen the aftermath of what had happened to others.<p>

Then, there was a blank. A huge chunk of her memories, just sort of missing. She can't help but fear what she does not know. And it troubles her to this day, that she has just forgotten her past. It doesn't sit right, but at the same time, she doesn't really want to remember. She was _that_ fearful of it.

In all, her life so far had not been squeaky clean and silver polished. No matter how many years you scrubbed, you could never erase the mould and the grime that covered her past.

But even the terror that was her dark, dark past was nothing compared to what she was feeling at this moment. She has never felt completely and utterly consumed by fear, like she was at this moment. The only thing she could do was scream and scream and scream, and just pray that she would live to see the light of day once more.

Soul's scalp is prickling. Maka has been gone for almost five minutes now. He glances at Stein every few seconds, silently pleading for permission to check on her. He is absolutely sick of being left alone in the dark. He wants to be at her side when she charges off recklessly. Why, he cannot say, but deep down, he knows that he must. Stein shakes his head once more. God dammit! Why did he even need permission to check up on a friend anyway? –friend-… Was she really a friend anymore? He stomped across that line earlier, kicking it away destroying the barriers between friendship and romance. Yet he still does not know where he stands. Everything has been happening too quickly. He needs time to just sit and think. Time away from friends and teachers, away from the world itself. If he could choose anywhere to just sit and… be, he would choose any roof. When he lived in the prison that was his mansion, the roof was his only escape. When he looked up at the stars, it was like for the first time in his life, he was truly _free_ from the burdens and expectations society had placed upon him. He wonders why the next time he just sits and gazes at the stars, he wants Maka to be seated beside him.

His heart beat stutters as he hears what he swears sounds like a faint scratching sound emanate from outside the dorm. His neck snaps to attention, and his body is stiff and rigid. No one else seemed to have heard the noise, as they all remain seated, talking in hushed whispers. He stands without warning, causing his dorm mates to glance at him with raised eyebrows. He ignores their attentions, as well as Stein's piercing stare from across the room. He is going to check on Maka.

He is across the room in 5 steps. His heart is pounding loudly in his ears, and as the sound echoes again from underneath the bathroom door, every single hair on the back of his neck stands on end. As his palm makes contact with the knob, lightning strikes and thunder roars. The whole living room is lit up with an eerie glow. The combination of the rain and the thunder pounding loudly outside is deafening. He grabs the knob, hands shaking as he tries to open the door. The task of twisting the handle is more difficult than he anticipated.

The lightning strikes again, but this time, the sound of glass shattering accompanies the deafening roar of the thunder. Soul's eyes go wide, as he is grappling with the knob. He can hear the others moving towards him, but his attention is fixed solely on what – or who is behind the door.

As the door swings open, a terrified scream fills the midnight air. The scene upon which he stumbles will haunt his waking mind for months to come. Maka is screaming, her eyes are wide in absolute horror, and there is blood splattered over her face, slowly dripping down her cheek and conjoining at the base of her chin so it looks like tears. There is a hand – it is so bloody and beaten it barely has the basic shape of one - reaching through the window, only millimeters away from her face. He is as frozen as she is. His mind recognizes the danger of the situation, but his legs and body are working against him. They refuse to move. He wills them to step forward, so he could at least be of some use. They do not listen. It is when Stein pushes past him, sending him careening into the door, that his limbs begin to cooperate again.

The arm appears to reach desperately out towards Maka's face, stretching its fingers and palm so that through the horrible cuts and chunks of flesh just… missing, the white gleam of bone was faintly visible.

Soul feels his dinner rearing to make a reappearance.

"Maka!" Tsubaki's yell causes Soul to stumble into the room. Maka is still screaming. Her eyes are lost, and it is if she hasn't even realized that anyone else is in the room with her. The hand begins to flex and tense, its fingers curling into a tight fist, before it relaxes once more, flopping lifelessly down so that it is hanging out of the window.

There is glass everywhere, Soul realizes with a jolt, that the blood running down Maka's face is from the arm, and not shards of glass imbedded in her own skin.

"M-Maka!" He finds his voice almost a minute after stumbling into the room. Her screams have ceased, echo of the pouring rain to take its place.

He takes one careful step after another, as he fears if he walks too fast, his defiant limbs will refuse once more and send him tumbling to the glass that litters the floor.

He is by her side a second later, as her own olive green irises appear to recognize the worried crimson of his own. He doesn't know what to say to her. He doesn't know what to say, full stop. He reaches out with a shaky arm, grasping her shoulder with his own severely shaking limb. He needs the contact. He needs to confirmation that she is still there… with him. That she hasn't disappeared again.

He ignores the arm, and focuses 100% of his attention on her. Colour is slowly returning to her cheeks, as her pupils slowly return to their regular size, if not slightly smaller due to the shock and panic of the past day.

"S-Soul…" She starts shakily, placing a cold hand on top of the one resting on her shoulder.

"Thank god you're alright." Soul says in a hushed whisper, as he can't stop his other arm from reaching around and pulling her into a sort of half embrace. He needs this, just as much as she does.

Stein's cold gaze hasn't moved off the hand reaching through the window. He studies it without a shred of emotion, noting how the fingernails look worn down, some of them so much so that they have split, so instead of a rounded fingertip, there is just a bloody stump. The hand itself is in no better condition. Some of the cuts are from the glass, but some are deeper and…older, but Stein's attention is focused on the dark purple and almost green bruises covering the arm.

"Leave the room." Stein says at last. This is not a scene for children. He will have to inform the others as soon as possible. He has a horrible voice in his head, telling him exactly whose hand is currently lodged through the window. He doesn't want to listen to it, but for him, logic always wins over gut instincts. He pulls out his cell phone, pressing speed-dial number one, automatically connecting him to the person who would know the most.

Shinigami-sama picks up before it rings a second time. Stein's voice is mono toned as he delivers the news. He will not let any of his inner turmoil over the situation come across in his voice. He must be strong, if not for himself, then for the people who rely on him.

"I think I found Azusa-sensei."

* * *

><p>Maka leaves the room without a word. She doesn't know why, but she feels she must see it again. Not the hand, but the entire body. She just <em>has<em> to know who it is. It's not a want, but a need. Soul is walking behind her worriedly, not sure whether to ask her where she is headed, or to simply follow without a word.

"I'll be right back-" She starts off, now standing at the entrance to the dorm. Soul's confused brows furrow into a glare. She was doing it again. Running of recklessly on her own, without the consideration to at least involve him in her troubles. Why? Why didn't she trust him? He was absolutely sick of it.

"Maka! You're doing it again. Stop blocking me out!" He growls, his voice almost drowned out by the pounding rain. Maka freezes mid sentence, as the simple truth of his accusation weighs down upon her. He was completely right.

"M-my bad." She apologizes meekly, turning away. "I… I have to see who it is." She finally admits, turning the knob of the front door, surprised to find it unlocked.

"W-wait! What?" he snaps, hurrying after her as she walks out of the door. "Are you an idiot? You're going to get us killed!"

Maka doesn't stop, nor does she slow down. "You don't have to come with me. Besides, that hand was coming for _me._ I saw a shadow through the window, and it didn't even have to think about it. _I_ was its target. You know what that means?"

He shakes his head forgetting she can't exactly see him at that moment. She takes his silence as a negative, so she explains further, slowly nearing her destination. "It means that I think the one who is responsible for what happened to the dorm, is the one that tried to go for me. It _must_ be."

He sees the logic in her reasoning… but still thinks she's insane. They were meant to stay together, remember? Stay inside in a group? Has Maka ever heard of safety in numbers? He sighs, covering up his fear with sarcasm.

"If you get us killed, I will kill you." He says at last, as she chuckles at his remark. The rain is frigid. Unlike earlier, he is trembling from the cold, not from just the fear. Maka doesn't even seem to notice. She continues her pace without even flinching. He admires her bravery, he really does.

They reach the opposite side of the window a minute later. The rain is pouring, so anything more than 10 meters away is veiled by the constant droplets falling from the sky. It is dark. Too dark. He can very faintly make out a lump by the sill, and can see the dark limb reaching through the window. He feels slightly glad even, that it is not daylight. The darkness cloaks the gruesome aftermath.

Maka, for the third time that day, questions what the hell she is doing. She should really stop acting on impulses, as she feels it will get her killed one day. The icy water bucketing down from the sky bites into her skin. But she ignores it. The crumpled heap reaching through the window captures 100% of her attention. The lightning strikes again.

Suddenly, the crumpled heap is revealed in all its horror, the face of the disfigured body clearly visible under the pale light. Maka recognizes it instantly. She wishes she didn't.

It was Azusa–sensei. Her eyes and mouth were twisted in a way that shouldn't have been humanly possible. Her hair was matted with dirt and blood. There was a pool of both blood and water slowly growing larger underneath the body. The hand that extended into the room was actually in better condition than the rest of the body. That thought sent Maka's stomach churning.

But apart from her thoughts circling solely around what and who it was, there was another that plagued her mind… If it was Azusa-sensei… Why was she here? It made no sense. Why would Azusa-sensei come after her? Did she reach through the window to try and gain attention? No. She could have called for help. It just didn't add up. There was a piece missing her. How… How did she die? Was it from blood loss from the multitude of cuts and bruises that dotted her body? Or was it from something else. As much her stomach revolts at the idea of taking another look, her mind and her will to know is just too strong.

The lightning flashes again, and Maka sees something that will be imbedded so deeply into her subconscious, not even therapy will be able to erase its disastrous effect of her psyche.

Her other hand… The mangled body's other hand was frozen, above its shoulders… right next to its neck. There is blood everywhere on the throat. It is literally covered in the vile stuff.

The gargling sounds Maka heard filter back into her mind, as her eyes go wide in horror as snippets of conversation that provide answers she doesn't want to know, destroy any other thought there could possibly be.

'_A drug that could cause a surge of emotion'_

'_the victim would be consumed'_

' _Lose their mind'_

' _become monsters'_

'_cause the brain to simulate the feeling of choking'_

' _the victim to claw at their own throat'_

Azusa-sensei… tore out her own throat.


	28. Repercussions

**Author's Note: I want to say right off the bat, that I am terribly sorry for the late update, and it will hopefully not happen again.**

**Basically, I managed to blow up my computer. Like, literally. It no longer works. Therefore, I have no way to write anything properly, until I either find a temporary replacement, or get a new one. Because there is a high chance I am moving house within the next few months, it means that getting a new computer has been politely declined, until we move house. This in turn means, the only time I have available to write, is during recess, lunch, breaks and classes that I have finished all my work in. **

**Now, that is the sole reason why this chapter was late. It was literally typed up at the tail end of classes I had finished my work in, and during lunch times, and before and after school.**

**Thankfully, I should have access to a temporary replacement by tomorrow, so chapters will continue to come out regularly once more.**

**Now, moving away from my inability to manage computers, I want to say a few things about this chapter. It is more of a cooling down chapter, from the last few's action and drama ect. Though do not be fooled to believing it is a filler, because it certainly is not! There are some important hints dropped here as well, that I really hope you as the reader, can catch so that you'll be left wondering what the heck is going on.**

**I really want to thank Thatguyuare, Erigay, nitemaren, Eieriann, KirstyKakes, Drew Secrets, bluenian98, -ramennoodles-O.o, raelynn gross, Haru-Kaede, Nighte Thief, wombattree and We Rock the House for your amazing reviews. Thank you!**

**Sorry for the incredibly long Author's note. Please drop a review if you have time, but otherwise as always; Enjoy the read!**

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><p>Soul is playing by the pond, dipping his toes in the water, before squealing and running behind the bushes. His elder brother watches the scene with a serene smile. Wide red eyes blink open from behind the bushes, as he slowly creeps towards the small pond once more.<p>

"The tadpole gonna' get me, Wes." The little boy moans, staring at the pond, only a few steps away. Wes glances sideways to his younger brother with amused irises, the same shade as his younger brother, flecks of crimson dancing in the sunlight.

"Soul, they can't hurt you. You're more likely to hurt them." He explains, walking over to his little brother and ruffling his tufts of white hair.

"B-buuut, they're all slimy, Wes." Soul says, glancing at the pond once more. Wes chuckles lightly, before placing a comforting hand on his brother's back and leading him gently to the edge of the pond.

"They'll become frogs soon. You like frogs that go 'ribbit', don't you Soul?" Soul looks up with his white eyebrows arched in confusion. He slowly reaches down with a stubby arm, barely touching the surface of the water, just enough to cause a small ripple to form and wobble the lily-pads.

"Yup." Soul says with a smile, his attention focused on the tiny blobs floating in the water.

"Tadpoles are just baby frogs that haven't grown up. They're like you. One day they'll grow up to be big strong frogs."

Soul's eyes widen in understanding, as he dives deeper with his arm to attempt to catch one of the little creatures.

"Careful Soul, you might hurt them." Wes reprimands gently, just as Soul's fist closes over one of the slimy blobs. Soul allows the little thing to squirm its way out of his grasp, as Wes's calm smile turns into a smirk.

"That's kind of like me doing..." He trails off slowly, leaving only the sounds of birds chirping in the trees and rushing water to fill the silence. Soul turns around curiously, wondering why his brother stopped speaking.

Without warning, Wes dives forward, picking Soul up by his midsection and placing him over his shoulder.

"This!"

"Wes! Put me down!" Soul cries, while laughing, sending his brother into a fit of laughter himself.

"Now you're the tadpole." Wes says in between laughs, attempting to catch his breath.

"Then you're a frog!" Soul says with a pout, crossing his arms while hanging upside down. Wes gently lowers him to the ground, and as soon as Soul's feet touch the soft grass, he lunges at his older brother's legs, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pond.

There was a huge splash, and a shocked Wes was paddling in the surface of the pond, eyes wide with surprise and completely soaked in pond water. Soul too, is drenched in the stuff, but can't stop laughing at how funny Wes looks.

Wes doggy paddles to the side of the pond, pulling himself upon the bank, panting and laughing with his younger brother. There is a tiny tadpole caught in his shoe, and he carefully scoops it up and places it back into the pond.

"Hey Wes, if you're a frog and I'm a tadpole, does that mean I'll become a frog one day too?" Soul asks innocently, his head tilted to the side as Wes's laughter dies down.

"Of course! You'll be the strongest frog in all the land!" Wes proclaims, using what Soul likes to call his 'silly' voice.

"Even stronger than you?" Soul asks, positioning himself on his older brother's lap. His clothes are wet and he is slightly tired. He wants to fall asleep with his older brother gently rocking him to sleep.

"Of course." Wes answers, watching as his younger brother slowly drifted off to sleep.

"Promise me that we can be frogs together." Soul says, his voice barely over a whisper.

"I promise."

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><p><em>Liar.<em>

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><p>Soul awakes with a start. The sun is shining, brightly he might add, birds are chirping and for once, his room is a decently warm temperature in the morning. The sun's rays filter into his room through the open window, meaning that it must be about nine or ten in the morning. He yawns heavily, stretching his limbs out, attempting to shake off the grogginess of the morning. He is in a peaceful haze, and though he has no idea what day it is, why he was allowed to sleep in, and why he cannot hear any other voices coming from the dorm, he does not mind.<p>

He slowly gets to his feet, before realizing with a mild amount of confusion, that he is in his school uniform. He never sleeps in his school uniform, its itchy, scratchy and either too hot or too cold. It smells like rain, and for some reason, it makes him anxious.

What would he have to be anxious about, anyway?

He stumbles over to his door, leaning on the frame for support, slouching all the way. What was he doing yesterday, anyway?

Thoughts, memories, filter into his mind. They were fired off like a gun, one after the other, leaving no time for speculation or contemplation. The execution. The kiss. The murder.

All the pleasant haze remaining from his dream dissipates in an instant, and he is on his feet and out the door.

The only thought that runs through his mind, is_ I swear I closed the window..._

He barges into the kitchen, hair untamed and eyes wild, only to come face to face with what appeared to be the rest of the dorm, in exactly the same condition he was in a minute prior.

They each were doing their own thing, with a lost expression on their faces. They were pale and had dark bags under their eyes, making them almost look similar to zombies.

Liz was staring blankly at the toast, still in the toaster, that had already popped and was now cooling down. Kid and Blackstar were not present. Maka looks like walking death, and was in the middle pouring milk into a breakfast bowl filled with choppily cut up fruit- (the orange had a bite mark, so it was missing a chunk on its left side, and the banana was still covered by its skin.)

Tsubaki was in no better shape, staring blankly at the cardboard box of cereal, and even Patty looks affected by the night before. Soul actually reckons, that he is in the best shape out of the entire dorm. The thought confuses him to no end. Last night, in his jaded memory, Maka had seemed so…brave. Storming out to find the culprit without an inch of fear. So why did she look so distraught now? Maybe he had dreamed the end of last night. Hopefully, he had dreamed the end of last night.

As much as he wants to believe his childish fantasy of everything being just…alright, the appearances of his dorm is proof enough for him to discern reality from his thoughts and daydreams. They all look like hell.

Maka stares at the milk overflowing in her bowl. Her mind is working at one mile an hour. Everything happening around her is going in a sort of slow motion. It is as if she is merely watching it her life play out before her eyes, instead of actually living it. She hears Soul come in, from the other end of the room, but she blocks out any and every thought revolving around him, or even with him in it.

Before her stupid teenage mind backtracks to last night, and attempts to solve the drama that was the kiss, she needs to solve a much larger problem first. One that makes her uneasy just thinking about it.

For most, like the rest of her dorm, it would be the murder of an entire dorm hanging over their head. For her, it was the fact that she was able to get over their deaths so quickly. Why? It didn't make any sense? There was a numbing sensation in the pit of her gut which she just couldn't place. Death isn't an area she has all too much experience in, and yet, she is able to just move on without a second thought. She knows that there is something wrong with that.

Not to mention the way that Azusa-sensei died. Maka Albarn was no idiot. There was no doubt what had happened in her mind. But what about everyone else? The other teachers must have personally known her, so would they really believe that she would just up and kill an entire dorm, then commit suicide? Surely one of them would have to question it, right?

She sighs heavily. This train of thought is getting her nowhere. She checked outside this morning, and the body was missing. She guesses it has already been carted away to the morgue. But there are other questions raised by this action. Why would they remove the body, but not mark out the scene of the murder for evidence? Why was everyone in Maka's dorm just sent back to bed? Shouldn't there have been policemen everywhere, with yellow tape and sirens filling the midnight air, instead of freezing rain and the roar of thunder?

There is something not right, and Maka knows it is connected with the source of her troubles. She doesn't even know the man's name! She knows his face though. That is something.

The doorbell rings sharply, and it appears to bring everyone out of their daze. Tsubaki is up like a lightning bolt, on her way to answer the door. Maka stops pouring the carton, realising that the bowl had filled long ago, and was now dripping off the edge of the table, and onto her clothes. Liz and Patty simply look at whoever is waiting on the other side of the door, eyes glazed over with emotionless looks on their faces.

Stein enters the room a moment later, the glare reflected off his glasses blinding, so no one could tell what kind of expression he wore.

"S-Stein-sensei." Tsubaki greets, closing the door behind them, before bowing slightly and heading back to her place at the table.

Stein surveys the room with an analytical precision. Every detail, ranging from the dorm's haggard expressions, to the milk covering the table is taken note of.

His expression is grim. The news he has is far from what may be classified by the modern day 'happy'. In fact, he is fairly sure that it would be quite disturbing for many regular children – because really, even though they acted like adults the majority of the time, every single member of the dorm was still a child.

He can see as clear as day how the last night as affected them – in a less than positive way aswell. That is not surprising. What _is_ surprising, however, is that two of the dorm members are unaccounted for. He assumes that they are still asleep, but has to ask anyway. It's not safe anymore. Shibusen itself, is no longer safe.

"Where are Kid and Blackstar?" He asks, taking a seat on the couch. He digs around in his deep pockets, fingers darting around valiantly, searching for a cigarette to relieve at least some of the tension resting upon his shoulders. He supposes he shouldn't smoke near kids. Not that he cares.

"Blackstar is still in his room. I'm not sure about..." tsubaki starts with a forced smile. Liz finishes for her, and unlike Tsubaki, she does not bother with the fake contentness. Her face is blank, and her eyes dull.

"Kid's still out of it. He probably won't wake up until 8 tonight, because he missed getting up at 8 this morning."

There are a few short laughs passed through the silence, but other than that, there is an uncomfortable tension hanging over the heads of each person – all having their own fears, reasons and doubts.

Stein flicks the lighter, and the tiny orange glow of the flame engulfs the end of the cigarette. If it were a normal day, Maka would reprimand him, telling him to go smoke outside. But this was no normal day. She simply glanced at him, before going back to cleaning the mess she made with numb hands.

"School is closed today." Stein says at last. Liz glances at him with one eyebrow raised in disbelief, as if to say 'Oh, really?' with sarcasm lacing her voice.

"What happened last night..." Stein begins, pausing to gather his thoughts. He needs to explain this in a way that hopefully does not freak the hell out of them and cause them to never be able to feel safe here again. The experience itself was horrific. That was a fact. But, the ramifications could be far, far worse. They had an Evans in this dorm! If he complained to his parents, he could have the whole school shut down and every teacher thrown in prison without question in less than a week. Then again, this was _Soul_ Evans. Stein seriously doubted whether the boy's parents even knew their son's birthday, let alone cared about his problems at school.

"They identified the culprit as Azusa-sensei. She was the one who..." He pauses again, struggling to find the right word. "Murdered her own dorm. The body was taken away early this morning, and as many of you have probably seen, there is almost no evidence left." Stein finishes. That is all they know. The whole _why_ aspect has not been touched as of yet. It was just as confronting for the teachers, as it was for the students. Azusa-sensei had been their _friend,_ their co-worker, and in Marie-sensei's case, their reality check. There was no record of any kind of behaviour that could have possibly lead up to this either. The whole damn thing made absolutely no sense.

"Why?" Maka asks, with her eyes downcast. They continue to avoid his own, Stein notes with barely concealed interest. _Just what are you hiding, Maka Albarn?_

"We have no idea right now. There was no trace of substance abuse, no motive, no pre-existing animosity between the teacher and the students. We know how, we just don't know why."

Maka's eyes go wide under the cover of her fringe. 'no trace of substance abuse'? But surely, if it was the drug that caused all this, then it _must_ be substance abuse. Was there something she had forgotten? This couldn't be right. Everything had added up perfectly. It was like she had finally solved a piece of the puzzle that was her life. There was no was she could be wrong. There had to be a mistake somewhere. Was it her? Or was it something else?

No. She had to be right. Because if she wasn't... if she wasn't right, then Maka had absolutely no clue what was happening before her eyes. And that lack of knowledge scared her.

What if the drug was untraceable? But then how would she prove it? Maka's heart would not let her just up and close the door to that chapter of her life. She would not let Azusa-sensei to go down as a murderer. She had to find proof...but how?

Suddenly an idea strikes her. What if... what if she found it. A puncture wound. She knows that it had to be injected straight into the blood stream, because the patients that swallowed the drug either died, or became seriously ill. She doesn't question how she knows this information. But it is there, in the back of her head. Like an external memory drive, containing files best left in the dark and out of the limelight until they are needed.

If... if the body was taken away by now... then... then there was only one place it could be. Maka's eyes are set with determination. She is going to prove that Asuza-sensei is innocent. And she is going to do it as soon as possible.

Stein leaves the dorm a minute later, without so much of a goodbye. He will be checking up on them at certain intervals of time. But right now... he thinks that they need to deal with this in their own way. In their own time.

The dorm is left in silence once more. There are faint snores echoing from Blackstar's room, but other than that, there is nothing. Maka finishes scrubbing the milk from the table. She is going to find out the truth, no matter how gruesome, disturbing or ungodly it is.

"I'm going out for a bit." Maka says, her voice slightly detached. None of the girls really pay any heed, yet to be snapped out of their haze. Soul's eyes narrow.

"I'll go with you." He says, standing and following her. She glances back, before nodding slightly. If she thinks about it, she actually wants and may need his company for this, however willing he is to venture where she is about to lead them.

The door slams shut behind them as the leave, and Tsubaki whispers a faint 'stay safe' that never reaches their ears.

"So where're we going?" He asks curiously, as they are now walking outside on the footpath and down the street.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll love it." He raises an eyebrow at this_. Oh? And where, Miss Maka Albarn, does he love going? _

"The morgue." _Yeah, yeah the mo-...wait, what!_

A pair of golden eyes watch as they disappear off into the city.


	29. Mortem

**Author's Note - Yes! I finally got a new computer! That is why this is so late. I originally intended to find a replacement computer until I got my old one fixed, but because I got a new one entirely, I have spent all my time getting it up and running, and not writing or anything like that. I will try to update as soon as I can, but life in general is getting more and more hectic the closer I come to exams, so I may have to take a week or so off at some point, if I find myself completely out of time. **

**I really want to thank raelynn gross, Thatguyuare, bluenian98, KirstyKakes, Drew Secrets, wombattree, , bushin1996 and Sethmeister for your amazing reviews. Thank you all for your support!**

**As always, please enjoy the read and if you have time, please drop a review. Thanks!**

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><p>Soul has a weird expression on his face. One eyebrow is raised, and the other is lowered and twitching. His mouth is twisted into a comical half frown, and his eyes continuously dart between Maka and the road before them. Maka thinks he looks like he torn between being confused, and being frustrated - which is in fact right on the mark.<p>

He doesn't quite know what to say. The morgue? All he can think over and over in his head is _why?_ She was doing it again - running off without telling him _why_. Sometimes, people need at least a little information to be secure - especially if they were just told they are visiting a _morgue, _of all places. Was a tiny scrap of information from her really too much to ask?

He trots beside her, unable to decide whether he should snap at her for keeping everything from him, or if he should just go along with it. How does she know where the morgue is, anyway?

This last thought makes his other thoughts slow down somewhat, and he decides it is well worth voicing his opinion on that one.

"So, how do you know where the morgue is?"He asks in a monotone voice. She glances back at him, her steps not faltering in the slightest.

"Well, I guess it would be near the police station?"She says with a mild shrug. Her tone is nonchalant and he can't believe she would treat going somewhere like the morgue so casually.

"'guess'? Surely you didn't just storm out of the dorm without some kind of plan?"

She glances at him with a singular eyebrow arched, before smiling angelically and replying "nope."

He chuckles lightly. Even though it goes against everything Maka stands for in school, organising things and doing assignments _weeks_ before they're set, it somehow suits her. Rushing off recklessly into danger... He sighs. Yep. That suits her perfectly.

"About yesterday... b-before the murder" She begins, her tone unsure and her eyes fixed squarely on the passing people and stores, anywhere but him. Immediately, red creeps along his cheeks. _Dammit Soul!_ _ You will not blush! _ His body ignores his mind's cries, as the red spreads to his cheeks.

He doesn't quite know what to say, nor how to explain what happened yesterday. It was just... indescribable. He still hasn't had a chance to work out what he feels, and why. He doesn't love her. He knows that... but still. There is some unexplainable urge in the depths of his heart every time he sees her, to just... He doesn't know. To do something.

He can't explain why his heart beats weirdly in her presence, and why he actually gives a shit about what she says. The whole feeling of dependence on another human being seemed so stupid before. So why does it feel so... good, right now?

Soul offers her his best fake grin, patting her on the back roughly without his steps slowing down in the slightest.

"Forget it. It was nothing." He turns away, glancing forward once more, refusing to look back at her. If he had, he would have seen how her expression fell at his words. After a short silence, she pulls her head up once more, and her weird grin returns once more.

"You know... before last night, I honestly thought you were gay." She says, without time for him to process the words. A second and a half later, he is gargling and choking on his own spit. Oh yeah! He remembers her mentioning that aaages ago. Wait. She honestly believed he was a... a... homosexual? God dammit. He has trouble saying it in his own mind. He has not problem with gays, no, not in the slightest, but the thought of someone thinking _he_ was gay... now that was something new.

His utter mortification and embarrassment quickly turns into laughter, as the absurdity of the situation descends upon him. Maka chuckles too, as she thinks back to all the times her heart would quaver at the thought of him being with Blackstar.

"I actually thought you were like... together, with Blackstar." She admits with a bashful smile, as all his laughter suddenly comes to a grinding halt. All the colour drains from his cheeks, as he looks absolutely and utterly terrified.

"Oh, god! That's disgusting!" He gasps, covering his mouth with his hands, still attempting to get over the horrifying mental images that filtered into his head at her words. He spits on the pavement for emphasis, as Maka laughs at his actions.

"W-what? H-how did you even come to that conclusion?" He splutters, as it is her turn to blush rosy red in embarrassment.

"Uh... well, I thought I saw you two..." He raises his eyebrow, as she seems unable to finish her sentence.

"Umm... doing..." His eyebrows shoot up at her unfinished words, as dozens of horrifying images filter into his head. Okay. Someone needs to kick his scumbag mind out of the gutter, then proceed to wash and scrub it for the next 30 years to erase any traces to the images of him and Blackstar together under the sheets out of his mind. HOW DID SHE EVEN THINK SHE SAW TH-

"Kissing." Wow. He is actually _relieved_ to hear that she thought she saw them kissing. The thought of kissing the blue-haired idiot is actually comforting, in comparison with the metal scars the previous images have left permanently in his mind.

"Me? Kissing him? That's just... actually, that's much better than the images that came to mind at first." He states as her eyebrows rise in confusion, then her face forms a playful smirk.

"Pervert." He clacks his teeth together, breathing out at the same time to form a 'Tch' sound, before abruptly veering off the path and into a random shop. Maka stands still in the centre of the street, peering at its name in an attempt to figure out why he left like that.

The shop's doorbell rings, as Soul catapults out of the door a minute later, large bottle of water in hand. It is huge, with a 3L capacity, as Maka pokes him as they continue walking.

"Attempting to drown yourself at the thought of your and Blackstar as a couple?" She asks curiously, watching him skull the drink, the majority missing his open mouth and dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt. He finishes with a loud gulp, before putting the lid back on.

"That's close actually, I was trying to wash the thoughts away. But if that doesn't work, drowning myself works too." They both chuckle lightly, before heading off once more.

20 minutes later and Soul thinks buying the water was a retarded idea. Why he hasn't simply thrown it in the bin is a mystery to him. His arm aches, as 4L of water is you know... HEAVY. "Why don't you carry it?" He groans to Maka, who simply smirks at his misery. She has been asking random people on the street for direction, while he focuses on how if he carries this 40 thousand tonne weight around for much longer, his arm will actually just drop off.

"I think it's down here." Maka says, waving off his pain with a flick of her wrist, her attention 100% focused on the task before her. Soul decides that they will probably have to, like... sneak into the morgue. Last time he checked, children didn't just waltz up to the police and say 'oh, can we have a look at your morgue?' He leaves the water bottle on the side of the street, with the thought that he will simply pick it back up when they are done in mind.

"So what are we actually going to do?" He asks, as Maka leads the way towards the police station looming on the horizon. She offers him a sheepish smile, before turning away and continuing their pace without glancing back and making eye contact.

"Weeeell... You know Azusa-sensei's, and how they think she was the one who did it?" Maka says, with an odd tone. He cannot place what emotion it is that covers her voice like a veil... he is not sure he wants to.

"'did it'? You mean how she's apparently the murderer?" Soul clarifies, watching his step as they trail off the footpath and into an alleyway.

"Yeah. I've done some checking up and did you know she used to work with the police force?"

Soul shakes his head in confusion, the sun filtering through the gaps between roofs.

"She was clean. There was no record of violence, or abuse or anything that could possibly indicate that she would do something like that... and the lack of motive gets to me too. It just doesn't add up."

Soul nods even though Maka cannot see him. These exact thoughts about something being out of place have been running through his head for _weeks._

"I think that it was some kind of drug." Maka finally admits after a long pause. Soul's head snaps in her direction, almost catching her eyes before she quickly averts hers.

"But Stein said there was no trace of substance abuse..." Soul says in confusion. For some reason, he believes each and every one of Maka's words without a second thought. It is the most sense anything has made for him in the last day and a half. But, he has to go through the holes in the theory. If they went to a teacher, there couldn't be gaps. But then... maybe! Maybe that was exactly what Maka was doing right now! Closing the gaps!

"How are you going to prove that it was a drug?" Soul says, glancing with a critical eye in her direction.

"Simple. We'll just find the body and then the puncture wound." He gapes at her in disbelief.

"And then what? You'll just manage to find the puncture wound sitting in plain sight? You don't think that the other countless injuries and holes will make that kind of difficult? Besides, what if it was healed already? She could have been injected with the drug ages ago. You know how much I hate clichés, but still... 'things aren't always as they seem', sounds rather appropriate here, don't you think, Maka?"

"Yeah, I know that. But still, I don't think it would have healed already, and if it was destroyed by the other injures, then so be it. But we still have to try..."

Soul sighs. This is not going to have a happy ending, and he bets it will end with him and Maka in custody in the next hour.

Soul cannot see the station anymore. They are in yet another alley, and have changed directions once again. He notes that Maka seems strangely adept at navigating through the dirty back streets and alleys that he has never set foot in, in his life. Weird.

"Uh, I think the police station is back there?" Soul says, as Maka makes yet another abrupt turn.

"We're going in from underneath." She says shortly.

"Haha, yeah, we're going in from unde- wait, what?"

Maka ignores his words, increasing the pace once more.

"The police station was once a prison. The cells below the surface stretch all the way underneath the entire city, and there are rumours that some criminals are still kept down there today. If we can find a way to get down there, we can go straight into the morgue, because it's below the actual facility."

Soul takes this information stoically, regardless of how freakin' creepy he finds it that there may be _criminals _and _murderers_ living right below him.

"Hh, here it is!" Maka exclaims, coming to a halt, causing Soul to walk straight into her. She stumbles forward slightly from the force, before stepping backwards and staring at her feet. Soul follows her gaze to the iron grate in the middle of the alley. It is old and worn, and the steel is rusty. With practised hands, Maka lifts it up, causing the metal to rub against the stone, a loud screech echoing down the empty alley.

"Nope." He says covering his nose at the rancid smell coming from beneath the surface of the grate.

"Oh come on. If we want to get in without any trouble, this is the only way." Soul is reluctant, as Maka is already in the hole and climbing down the metal ladder. He follows cautiously after her, still holding his nose with one hand. He pulls the grate back over the surface, before following Maka once more, down, down, down into the darkness.


	30. Shadow

**Author's Note; Eheheh... What can I say? Exams suck. That is what I can say. A combination of lack of time, studying, procrastination and pure laziness is why this is almost 5 days late. I will hopefully have the next chapter out tomorrow night, as to not leave you all hanging, but if I can't, then I am truly sorry ( as well as am truly an asshole.) I actually really love this chapter, to be honest, so hopefully you all do as well. **

**I want to thank wombattree, raelynn gross, Thatguyuare, bushin1996, Drew Secrets, KirstKakes, nitemaren, 78meg9, omgpear, Philoctetes, anonymsSoulEaterLover18, and Kounrty101 for taking the time to review my last chapter. You people are gods. Seriously.**

**Oh! Oh! Oh! Before I forget, I want to mention that I did end up drawing the SoMa kiss scene from this fic, well at least what I pictured it looked like in my head. **

**Just destroy the spaces are you're good.**

**http : / / gone-phishing . deviantart . com / art / Soul-and-Maka-Kiss-267891135**

**Please enjoy the read, and if you have time, drop a review. Thank you!**

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><p>The rail is cold and covered in a mossy substance. Soul has to fight to keep himself from losing his flimsy grip. Maka appears to have no trouble with scaling the structure, but he thinks that she is having just as much difficulty as he. The grime covering his only grip, as well as the darkness, makes this much more dangerous than it should be – granted, climbing down into wherever the hell they were going isn't the safest activity one could participate in, the chance of something going wrong was much higher.<p>

The lower he climbs, the colder it gets. Suddenly, he wishes he was wearing a jacket. It's not the sort of cold you feel on the surface, when standing or sitting outside for awhile. It was a kind of chill that penetrated any sort of useless garments you were clothed in, and dug straight into your bones. Soul's hands clamp around the slippery railing as his support leg loses its placing and slips off the rail, leaving him hanging midair with only his hands to keep him from falling.

Carefully, he finds the next step once more, only the sound of shoes on metal echoing through the darkness.

"Oi, Maka... How much deeper does this go?"He calls out worriedly. He is no coward, but he is also no hero. He is still human, so the darkness and silence gets to him like nothing else. It calls forth a primal instinct within him that he never knew existed to attempt to find a way to deal with the terror. He refuses. Maka is still with him. He feels her taking cautious steps right below him. That is enough for now.

"We're here!"Maka proclaims, letting go of the rail, landing with a loud splash that echoes through the black, black cavern. The sudden move and sound surprises and scares Soul so much that his grip falters and he falls, crashing to the ground with another huge splash.

It is a human instinct to attempt to breathe when the ability to take in air is constricted. In simple, this meant that as soon as he landed in the cold, dark water, he immediately attempted to breathe in, and therefore, sucking in a large mouthful of disgusting sewage water.

He starts scrambling, finding his footing moments later to pull himself to an upright position, where he proceeds to cough and gag, desperately attempting to vanquish the foul liquid that invaded his mouth.

The splash from his magnificent fall has drenched Maka to the bone in the same vile stuff. She is glaring at him, and it is all he can do to smile sheepishly in return.

Maka leads the way, which is not really surprising, but Soul is actually relatively glad all the same. It feels like he is walking through incredibly sloppy mud that reaches up to his knees, and it smells even worse. He tries to ignore it, but he is 5 minutes away from allowing his breakfast to make a reappearance.

Maka is in no better condition. It wasn't meant to be like this. She deduces that it is this way because of the rain the night before. It must have flooded, and this is merely the aftermath. Whatever the reason, it still stinks. Literally. She almost feels guilty for dragging Soul down here with her, but at the same time, she knows there would have been no way she would have gone if it was by herself - down here, into water, that is.

Her eyes have somewhat adjusted to the dim lights where the surface occasionally filters through a gutter or gap in the bricks. She hates how she faintly recognizes some twists and turns. At some level, she knows that she has been down here before. Not in these exact conditions, but through that particular gate and this passage. She hates it, because her mind cannot remember where and when she has seen the images before, but her body does. She knows when to sidestep the metal pipe concealed by the water, only steps away from breaking their shins. She knows the passage will get smaller and smaller, until the water should be gone and they begin to get closer to the surface.

She also knows that they will be directly underneath Shibusen very, very soon.

* * *

><p>The level of the water is decreasing, Soul notes as he trudges along, right behind Maka. He wants to walk beside her, but at the same time, she seems to be able to tell when something may be in the way, as if she knows this place. The thought troubles him. Why does she know this place, especially if it is a prison?<p>

Maka abruptly stops walking, as Soul reaches out and grabs her hand in his own. He will not admit that he is scared out of his mind. His pride will not let him. It is the little signs that give his fear away, like the sweat coating his brow and the tense muscles. He doesn't think Maka has realized yet, which is a relief, but she has still not resumed her pace.

Soul glances around the walls to his sides, and soon notices that the left side, instead of a brick wall, is barred by a rusty metal gate. There is a gutter above the cell, where Maka's gaze has not once left in the entire time she's been stationary.

There is the faint sound of flies buzzing, but neither pay it any heed.

Soul notices that the prison cell smells absolutely vile. Much, much worse than the sewage from before. It smells like rot, decay, and death.

"Soul... do you remember all that time ago, when I bent over the gutter?"Soul nods in the affirmative, as his eyes widen as realization strikes him. "The buzzing of the flies... it's the same as back then."

Soul can hardly breathe. This is a prison cell. A fucking _prison_ cell. She leant down with her face inches away from the stone, only centimetres away from some criminal's grasp? How is that even possible?

"I-is there anyone in there?"He whispers in a hushed voice, suddenly very aware of what, or should he say, who, is lurking in his surroundings.

"I don't think so..." She whispers in a voice with the same volume as his own. The knowledge of just how close she was to danger that night comes as a shock to her. It was real... The terror and foreboding was true. The thought makes her shiver. How... how did she know?

It takes all her willpower to tear her gaze away from the prison, and back to the dark path ahead of them.

The walk, and they walk, and they walk, and they finally reach a hatch. It looks old, too, the wood is rotten and the steel has rusted.

Maka reaches out, and begins to lightly push on the thing blocking their path to the surface. It creaks and groans in agitation, but alas is slowly pushed aside.

No light filters in from the surface, Maka notes with worry. This isn't right. It was during the middle of the day. Surely the morgue would have lights illuminating the area? Maybe the light wasn't good for the bodies, or something along those lines? She knows that something is terribly out of place.

She is abnormally cautious as she climbs out of the hatch. As her head pops up, and scans the dark room quickly, noticing multiple things.

First off was that there was not a single light in the entire room, so it was just as dark as the hallway they had previously come from.

Secondly, was that she was in the corner of the room, the hatch being blocked on two sides by walls.

Thirdly, was that she and Soul were completely alone. There was no sound coming from the room, or anywhere near them.

"Soul, I can't see anyone." She says, hoisting herself up and out of the hatch. She scampers to her feet, before helping to pull him up as well.

He is in full on panic mode. What is going on? She said a police station. It seems they were already in the morgue, and yet there was no one there. On every side, the walls were covered with small silver boxes, obviously much more lengthy to hold the bodies that they carried. There was a singular examination table, and only one door leading out of the area. Soul didn't quite know what to think. Neither did Maka.

"So, how exactly are we going to find Azusa-sensei?"Soul says with a raised eyebrow. Defence mechanism number one- if scared shitless, act like you are cool and in control, and no one will notice.

"I uh, suppose we ought to... check the silver things?"She suggests, with a shrug of her shoulders. Why did he expect she would have some kind of plan for this, again?

Maka makes a beeline to the closest corner on the left, and chooses a tray at random. The metal is cold to the touch, and Maka's hands are still slippery from earlier, making even touching the metal just plain uncomfortable. She pulls with all her might, and slowly, the tray comes out.

There is no body. Maka and Soul are both wide-eyed, staring at the empty tray. Of course not every tray would have a body in it, what did you expect Soul? He internally berates himself.

Moving the tray right next to the one she has already pulled out, she begins work on yet another. The result is exactly the same. There is no body. Again.

Maka's eyebrows furrow in a mixture of confusion and frustration. Just what was going on?

She tries a third one. Same result. Soul begins to help out two, until the room is filled only with the metal scraping against metal of each tray being ripped out.

Half an hour later, and there is not a single body in the entire morgue. Every tray is out, none containing anything but a light blue blanket it was already equipped with.

"Maka, are you sure we're even in the right place?"Soul finds himself asking, frustration and the aftermath of terror lacing his tone. Well this was a gigantic waste of time. Not only did it scare him shitless on a minute basis, it covered his clothes and body in sewage water, and actually made him to exercise. Yes, that's right, _exercise_.

Maka's mind frame is slightly different. She is not focused on the time they have wasted in the slightest, her thoughts being centred around a much more important and dangerous issue.

"Yes, I'm sure." she snaps in response, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown. What the hell was going on? Why were all the bodies missing? Where did Azusa-sensei's body go? More god damn questions!

"Then where's the body, eh?" Soul growls in response. He wants to go home. Not to his house, with his good for nothing parents, but to Shibusen. Somehow, in this short period of time, it has become his home.

"I don't know."Maka replies, her tone slightly dejected. She supposes they will have to return. Without figuring _anything_ out. What was she even expecting, anyway? Did she just expect for the body to be sitting right before her, laid out and in perfect condition to be searched for a puncture wound? Did she expect that this would be simple, and everything conveniently going to plan, like some kind of cheesy story? No, this was reality, and reality was cold, harsh and unforgiving.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time."She says at last, in a voice that does not suit her at all. He is pissed. Not at her, but at the way she is just giving up. This was Maka Albarn. She _never_ gave up. She was so stubborn, you could have photographic evidence of her doing something, and she would deny it until she was six feet under. He didn't like the way her eyes lost their shine when she said those words. Besides, when does she apologize, anyway?

"You should be sorry." he says in a harsh tone, as her head drops even lower like a kicked puppy. "But not for wasting my time. For giving up."

Her head snaps to attention at this. Her eyes are wide, and his scowl is prominent.

"This isn't you. The Maka Albarn I know would drag me to the pits of hell, and get us both killed over 500 times before even _considering_ apologizing."She looks like she is about to intervene, but he never gives her the chance. "She would storm into the office, guns blazing, and demand for them to take her to the body, all the while kicking me in the ass for complaining."

Maka's frown slowly lessens, as Soul continues to talk.

"She would find some secret passage, then solve some of these bloody questions somehow, and find where all the bodies have gone before ever even thinking of admitting defeat."

At the words secret passage, Maka finds her attention drawn one of the only patches in the room not covered with silver.

"Her pride wouldn't allow her to be wrong. She would fight tooth and nail to prove that she is right, even though it is sometimes blatantly obvious that she is completely and utterly wrong."

"Uh, Soul?" Maka tries to interrupt, moving over to the darkness, tracing her fingers around the wooden frame slowly.

"She would dent my cranium every time I dared to insult her, even though I was merely stating a fact and she was just bein-"

"Soul." Maka interrupts again, as he finally pauses midway through his sentence this time. For the first time, he notices exactly what she is doing, and moves over to join her.

"There's a door here."She says, in a hushed voice.

"Called it."Is all he says with a confident smirk, as she bonks him lightly on the back of his head in response. "Where does it lead?" He asks, still attempting to find the cracks where the seamlessly perfect wall ends and the almost invisible door begins.

"Why don't we find out?"Maka says with a smile, before her entire body screeches to a halt, as a singular sound emanates quietly from the other side of the door.

"Maka?"Soul asks in confusion, noticing how her entire body is frozen.

"Tsubaki..." Maka whispers, her eyebrows furrowed as Soul's eyes dart to her own.

"Tsubaki? What about Tsuabki?"

"I..."Maka pauses, listening intently again, ear pressed to the thin door. "I just heard Tsubaki's voice."

"B-But that's impossible!" Soul says through clenched teeth. Tsubaki was back at home, right? She was with Liz and Patty and Kid and Blackstar. She must have misheard! There was no way Tsubaki would be in a place like this. "There's no way Tsubaki is on the other side of the door!"He snaps in a hushed whisper.

"I know what I heard."Maka growls in reply, her hand inching towards the knob. She twists the handle slowly, and to her utmost surprise, it is not locked. Slowly, she swings the door open, the room on the other side being even darker than the morgue.

Both Soul and Maka slowly creep into the room, careful not to make any unnecessary noise. Maka immediately spots the desk. It is dark, but she can see the multiple computer screens all set up and off.

They walk forward, together this time, hand in hand and fingers clenched around the others, purely to stop themselves from shaking. Slowly, Maka reaches out towards the screen, and turns it on.

Images fill every screen. Live streaming from what looks like a high quality video camera. Maka's eyes go wide in horror as she quickly realizes exactly what is on the other end of the screen.

It is their dorm. No one else's, theirs specifically. They can see Tsubaki talking quietly with Liz, Kid fast asleep in his room, and Patty and Blackstar arguing.

"W-What the fuck!"Soul bites out at last, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, its view capturing the interior of his room, not missing any detail.

The echoing crash of a door slamming shut behind them fills the air, and makes them both, freeze. Slowly, they crane their necks, and all the can see is a dark figure walking towards them.

Its footsteps approach ominously in the deafening silence, a repeated clack that echoes endlessly.

"Forgive me." The figure mutters softly, its voice indistinguishable whether it belonged to a male or female.

"For what I've done..."

Maka knows this voice. So does Soul. He has heard it before. But from where! Who's voice sounds like that?

"And..."

Maka's eyes go wide in horror as she finally puts a face and name to the voice.

She catches the metallic glint of the concealed knife.

"For what I'm about to do."

_Crona..._


	31. Blade

**Author's Note: Well, this is a little- a lot late. Why? Exams, combined with the fact that I'm about as good as writing fight scenes, as a beetle is at dancing with a shrew. Honestly. Next update will most likely be next weekend. Alas, there is some good news out of all this! Two weeks from today and I will be done with exams and school work. Therefore, if I'm not procrastinating my time away, updates will appear much, much more frequently. **

**A big thank you to raelynn gross, wombattree, Alik Takeda, punkinprincess2, , KirstyKakes, 78meg9, bluenian98, Nagiza, anonymsSoulEaterLover18, Philoctetes, Drew Secrets, Butterfree, vampriecadameygirls, Haru-Kaede, and lastly random reader, all of whom took the time to review last chapter. **

**I'm still in shock over how many people actually read this story. It's astounding! Thank you, everyone!**

**If you have time, drop a review, if not, just please enjoy the read. Thanks!**

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><p>Soul does not have time to react before he is roughly shoved to the side and he falls to the floor with a heavy grunt. He lands heavily on his stomach, which instantly knocks the breath out of him. His eyes are wide as his eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness. He cannot see what stands before him, but somehow, he knows exactly what it is. He felt the metallic blade of the knife whip across his cheek at the same moment he was shoved over. It was aimed true, and would have hit its mark right through the centre of his forehead, had Maka not dived into him. He is in relative shock. He... he could have died. He <em>shoul<em>d have died, but she saved him, leaving him with only a shallow cut. His cheek is completely numb, and where the stinging sensation of blood oozing down his cheek should be, there was nothing. For that he was glad.

The light reflected off the blade briefly shines upon their attacker's face. He recognizes it instantly. Crona. He could never forget that pink hair, that pale complexion and the bags that continuously lurk beneath her eyes. But her eyes themselves... they were different this time. Gone, was the tiny spark that hid beneath their depths. Gone was the humanity. There were dull, inhuman. He feared for his life as he rolls out of the way as yet another strike is aimed at his midsection.

"Soul!" Maka shouts desperately, only able to catch a glimpse of the glinting blade from her position. They need to escape. There is no way they can outmatch someone like Crona in physical strength. Soul was a rich boy who barely lifted a finger his entire childhood, and she was just a scrawny, street rat. Crona has been trained. Trained to kill. It does not take a genius to figure this out. By the way she moves, and the way she handles the blade with precision and ease, Maka guesses that Crona has been using one in this way for a number of years prior. She and Soul should have no chance in hand to hand combat. They need to escape if they want to keep their lives.

"Maka!" he replies, as he dives yet again. The knife grazes his skin once more, forming a thin cut going right from his elbow to his shoulder. Though the cut is shallow, the amount of blood he can feel escaping is worrying.

"We have to get out of here!" she yells, as Soul dives once more. Crona appears to not even hear Maka's words. Her eyes remain blank, as the knife comes within a centimetre of his face. He attempts to roll away once more, but his path is blocked.

Crona has backed him into a corner without him knowing. Shit. She's smarter and more aware of her surroundings than he realized. He has nowhere to run.

Crona lifts the blade once more, so that is handing right above Soul's head. This is it.

He can't avoid this blow. He is going to die here. He absolutely terrified. He had so many things he wanted to do in his life... to accomplish! Words left unsaid. Between him and his parents. Between him and Maka. He... he doesn't want to die!

The blade is brought down without mercy. He screws his eyes shut, in a fruitless attempt to prepare him for the agonising pain only milliseconds away from reaching his body. A second passes. Two.

Has he died already? Slowly, he allows his eyes to open. Maka has literally jumped on Crona's back, grasping Crona's hand that held the knife with both of hers. There is not enough room on the handle, and so half of Maka's grip is tightened around the blade. He can't even imagine how painful that must be.

For the first time in the entire night, Crona shows some sort of outward emotion towards the situation. Her eyes widen in a combination of surprise and frustration. She continues to pull the knife downwards, so that if Maka loosens her grip for even a moment, it would swing down upon Soul. He is frozen. He shouts and screams at his body to get up, to move, to help. But it won't. all he can see is the blood flowing down Maka's arm, and her agonized expression. It soon twists, and even in a situation like this, she manages to kick him out of his daze with her words.

"Get up, idiot! Unless you want to be minced meat, get up!" she roars, as his mind goes from being utterly frozen to running 100 miles an hour. In an instant, he is on his feet and has darted out of the corner. Maka releases her grip of the blade a second after, and it wedges into the floor with such an incredible amount of force that the blade digs down - almost to the handle. Maka has backed away from Crona, with Soul behind her. She knows that her palm has been torn to pieces. When she stopped the knife, she had to hold the blade with her palm. Right now though, it is completely numb. She guesses it's the adrenalin. She is actually grateful - if she survives this, her hand is going to hurt like a bitch. She mentally shrugs it off. An aching hand is a small price to pay for someone's life.

Maka's vision is focused solely on Crona. She is walking towards them, and small sounds are coming from her lips. Is Crona... giggling? If so, it is creepy as fuck. Maka thinks that this could be a scene out of one of the cheesy, old fashioned horror movies Soul always liked to watch.

Crona has moved past the centre of the room, and is blocking the exit. Maka's body twitches. Not in fear, but in excitement. Her mind cannot even fathom what this means.

"Soul." she says in a hushed whisper, her mind calculates various ways and methods they could use to escape. "I'll distract her, while you sneak out."

"Do you _want_ to get yourself killed?"He snaps in response.

"Don't worry. I have a plan..." Soul glares at her heatedly. He would never leave a friend behind, while he ran away. Especially Maka. What was she even thinking, anyway?

"I won't desert you like that. I refuse." Soul replies in a gruff voice. He is aware that every second they waste, Crona comes one step closer. But even that isn't enough to motivation to make him leave her. He... he will _never_ do that.

"Just trust me. If you get out the door, she'll turn to you and when that happens, I'll try to take her down. Then you can help, and try to disarm her, if you can." Maka explains in a hurry, her voice conveying the frustration and desperation evident in her posture and actions. He is surprised she actually appears to have even half a plan formed. Though it is nowhere near safe, nor does it guarantee that they will both come out unscathed, it is the best they have at this point. He legitimately trusts her enough to put his faith in her words. If she says she will be able to distract Crona so he can get the jump on her, then he will believe it.

Soul nods in the affirmative, his eyes hard and almost all previous traces of fear completely erased from his crimson depths. Maka sees this change in his persona, and grins in the darkness. They will make it. This, she promises.

"Now!" She barks loudly, as Soul springs from his position, darting to the left of Crona while ducking, narrowly dodging the blade of the knife. Crona turns to follow up her previous strike, but before she can swing the weapon again, a force collides heavily with her abdomen and an incredibly tight grip snakes its way around her hand that holds the blade.

Maka is blocking the strike by holding Crona's arm with her arms. In frustration, Crona swings her free hand, which curls into a tight ball, towards Maka's unprotected face. Maka cannot move in time to avoid the blow, and there is a nasty crack when the bony knuckles of the fist connect with the base of Maka's jaw. She grunts in pain as Crona raises her fist once more.

Maka is prepared this time. She dives forward, launching her body weight towards Crona, throwing the pair off balance so they both fall crashing to the floor. For a split second, Maka's iron grip loosens, which is enough for Crona to free the weapon from its confinement. The blade glints in the darkness, as the knife is swung downwards.

_I'm really going to die_. Is the only thought running through her head. There is not enough time for her to avoid it. It feels like the blade is going in slow motion. _Stop._

_Stop._ She pleads internally. Her mind in paralysed. So when the knife's movement is stopped, her mind goes black.

Soul does not know what happened. As soon as he was out of range, he turned back to attempt to sneak up on the pair. As he crept around the edge of the dark room, as Maka and Crona fought desperately. He heard the sickening crunch of bone against bone, and it took him everything he had not to dive in. He could not fuck this up. He needed to find his moment and take it. If he screwed up, then it would not only be his life that is lost, but hers as well. And he will not - cannot - allow that to happen. As they fall to the floor, he realizes too late that he is too far away to help in that moment.

He sees the knife shimmer in the darkness, as he realizes Maka must have lost her grip.

"MAKA!"He screams in anguish, running towards the pair as fast as he can. Subtly can go fuck itself. What would it matter if he got the jump on Crona, if Maka was already sliced into tiny pieces?

He sees Maka's eyes screw shut, and fears for the worst. He is too far away. He will not make it in time. This cannot be happening! _Come on Soul! _ He internally shouts at himself. Every moment that passes makes the distance seem longer.

"No!"He roars, as the blade is brought down. He falls, crashing to the ground. He did not reach her in time. He failed. He expects to hear the sound of the blade sinking to flesh, followed by that unholy sound of laughter. He failed Maka. He doesn't deserve to live.

Odd. There is no sound. No laughter. No dagger ripping into flesh. It was dead silent. A singular red eye blinks open. He sees their silhouette and that is all.

The blade has stopped, only millimetres from Maka's heart. At first, he thinks that Crona stopped the blade herself. Maybe she still had some humanity left within her?

That is until he sees the black curve of Maka's arm. The one she used to stop the blade last time.

she caught it. She caught the fucking blade with her palm. He can see the blood, slowly leaking onto the floor below them. Maka has the blade tightly clenched in her palm. He expects to hear her scream. Or shout. Or do _something_ to indicate that she _felt _it. It is when he looks at her eyes, he sees what he has only ever seen in his nightmares. Gone, were the emerald spheres that he had come to depend on. Was it a trick of the light, perhaps? Or were her eyes really jet black?

It is at this moment, that he concludes that Maka is much more terrifying than Crona.

The next few minutes are a blur. He can't even _see_ their movements. A fist will come flying, only to be blocked and countered by an elbow to the face, which would be then blocked by the other hand. Crona still attained possession over the weapon, but Maka was _winning_.

He watches, too awe and terror struck to even contemplate intervening. He sees the blade fly towards Maka's face again. It's block by an arm, before he sees an elbow deliver a nasty blow to Crona's rib. He swears he hears something crack.

Then he sees it. Maka's purpose for the cheap blow. The knife is sailing into the air as Crona's breath is stolen from her and she struggles to breathe.

Maka catches the knife with ease as she swings the weapon towards Crona's unprotected neck. Soul's eyes go wide. This is not Maka. Maka would never actually try to _kill_ another person, would she? Those were not Maka's eyes. They were the eyes of a beast. They lacked compassion, empathy and mercy. They were the eyes of a monster.

"STOP!"He shouts, as the tip of the knife reaches Crona's pale neck. Maka's eyes snap open.

Vibrant emerald flooded their endless depths, banishing the shadows lurking within. She looks down in horror, and sees _herself_ holding the knife against Crona's neck, only millimetres away from ending her life.

Maka allows the knife to clatter to the floor, as she struggles to breathe properly. She was about to... She w-was about to...

"S-Soul..." she whimpers, her arms and entire body begin to shake mercilessly.

"I-it's alright." Is all he can say, even though it is a lie. It is not alright. Nothing that is happing is alright.

"I-if you hadn't said something..."

"Shhh. It's over, okay?"He attempts to soothe. Crona lies hunched over on the cold floor, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"I would have... I would have!"

"No. You're Maka. You wouldn't have..."

"I would have killed her, Soul..."


	32. Drugged

**Author's Note; A wild chapter appears! The last two weeks have been hectic, and I have not literally not found time to update. Though I am sorry about it, I do have some good news. My very last exam is tomorrow, which means that after that, I'm done. It'll be the end of the year too, so I will have much more time to update- if my chronic laziness does not strike me down. **

**I was curious about something else though, as in last chapter I honestly thought I nailed it. I tried to keep it fairly realistic, all the while leading up to the climax. In my head, it was a nice, honest idea which I hoped to explore, and I honestly thought it was original. Then, the next night after I post it, I receive a review that literally tells me that it was filled with "abundant cliches". I was stunned. I really was. Can anyone please tell me what exactly was cliche about the last chapter? I mean, I suppose if Soul had dived heroically in front of Maka and taken the knife, _that_ would have been cliche. But I honestly thought my idea was like...you know...cliche free? Ugh, sorry for the rant, I am just baffled.  
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**This chapter pretty much picks off from where we left off last chapter, and there will _finally_ be some answers revealed. **

**On a completely unrelated note - I cannot honestly believe how well this story has done. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 279 reviews? I don't even know what to do with myself! I want to thank ****raelynn gross, wombattree, Skye Albarn, tim belk, Drew Secrets, bushin1996, bluenian98, omgpear, KirtsyKakes, TheElementalPerson, scarecrowscreams, Nighte Thief, 78meg9, Thatguyuare, anonymsSoulEaterLover18, AliceNightmare, and last but definitely not least, bunannza. ****Thank you all so much! This chapter is for you guys and your patience.**

**As always, if you don't like it then why are you even reading it?  
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**Please enjoy the read, and if you have enough time drop a review. Thanks.**

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><p>There is a heavy silence that descends upon the dark room. Maka allows no sobs, nor cries no wails to escape her lips. She feels like crying, and there is a pressure deep within her chest she labels disgust. Not fear, not anything else. She was disgusted with <em>herself<em>. The area behind her eyes burns, but not a tingle tear falls. Soul is breathing heavily, and she can feel his chest breathe in and out heavily. She still cannot feel her hands. Whether that is a good or a bad thing, she cannot yet tell. Her mind still can't wrap around the fact that she was about to... she was about to kill Crona. There was no dodging the question, no lying and no escaping it. She would have done it too, if it wasn't for...

Maka lifts her head, her emerald eyes meeting Soul's own. She looks away quickly, the pure concern for her evident in his expression and in his smouldering eyes is so fierce, she fears that if she stares much longer, she too will be consumed by the flames. Her attention is once again directed towards Crona, hunched over on the ground.

She tries to move towards her form, but Soul holds her back.

"What are you doing?" he hisses in a hushed whisper, attempting to cover up his fear and worry with anger. Too bad she has already caught on to that act. Maka doesn't think she can explain it. When she looks at Crona, there is a familiarity that has yet to dissipate. She gut tells her than Crona is not responsible for the actions she took, the wounds covering her body, and the terror inflicted on her psyche. There was something wrong with this picture.

"Soul... there's something not right. I- I don't think Crona would attack us... like, if she was given a choice..."Maka replies shortly, as Soul's grip around her tightens.

"She just did, and even if that's true, so what? Someone could still be out there, telling her to attack again."He snaps in response. She hates how much sense he makes, and how the logical part of her brain agrees with his thoughts entirely. It's her gut that's telling her to approach the hunched over girl this instant, and see what was wrong.

"I'm not going to let you get hurt."He says, before his head drops in something akin to shame and his eyes drift towards the palms of her hands, which are essentially torn to shreds. "Again..." The way he speaks causes her to lift her head once more, so their eyes meet. Sparks fly.

"I'm alive, Soul. _We're_ alive. That's all that matters."She says, trying to rid that stupid _guilt_ from his voice. Her attention is once again drawn to Crona, who has yet to make a move. It makes Maka nervous. Not the fact that someone who literally just tried to kill them is hunched less than five feet from her, not quite. It is the fact that her gut is screaming at her, telling her to go to Crona _now_. And do what? She asks herself. This is stupid. They should be using this time to escape, instead of worrying over the enemy. Maka blinks, before glancing back to Soul.

That is, until she hears what sounds like a strangled cry. Her eyes snap back in the direction of Crona. The other girl's eyes are still that terrifying blank shade of nothingness they were beforehand. But, she was making horrible noises. It sounded like she was... choking. Maka's eyes widen, as the horrifying realization comes over her. NO!

"SOUL, GRAB HER LEGS!"Maka commands, as Crona's hands viciously tear into her own neck. Maka dives, and manages to grab both of Crona's hands as best she can, lying on her arms to prevent too much movement. Her body is still squirming, and less than a second later, Soul has pounced on her feet. Crona's torso continues to writhe in agony, as the horrible choking noises grow louder and louder.

"Wh-What the fuck is happening?"Soul barks out, losing his grip on one leg momentarily, being brutally punished by a harsh kick to the jaw. A resounding crack echoes in the room, and Soul is surprised he didn't scream. He manages to wrestle the other leg under control, but he knows something is wrong when his mouth will not open when he wants to speak.

"S-shit!"Maka swears, hearing the gruesome sound, still trying her hardest to keep Crona's arms still. "You know how I thought it was a drug that caused Azusa-sensei to do those horrible deeds?"Though Maka could not see it, Soul's eyes widened in understanding at her words. What sick twisted bastard would inject Crona with the same stuff? Wait a minute... how did Maka know? ...How did she know that Crona would attack her own throat?

He tries to voice his opinion, but his mind and his body are working in different directions. A pained grunt is the only sound that escapes his lips.

"I think - no - I _know_ that Crona has been injected with the same stuff."Maka bites out, the intensity of the situation rising as Crona's anguished cries grow louder and louder.

Soul forces his body to comply with his mind. "What do we do?" Soul cannot bring himself to question how she knows it. He'll think about all that shit later, when he is not bleeding, jaw aching and attempting to stop someone from quite literally committing suicide before his eyes.

"I don't know!" She snaps back, as Crona's arm continue to flail. The sounds emanating from the poor girl grow louder and louder, the horrible gasping and choking not ceasing.

"Is something actually stopping her from breathing?" He has to take breaths in-between his words, his jaw not helping his case in the slightest.

"I don't think so. The drug only affects the brain... she thinks she's choking, but she isn't."

_And how do you know that?_ Soul thinks to himself, eyeing the scene with a clenched jaw and tightened muscles.

And then everything comes to a halt. Crona's movements stop abruptly, her eyes widening before slipping closed. Her limbs fall to the ground, and in that moment, Maka fears for her life.

"What happened?" Soul asks, not trusting Crona in the slightest, his grip on her legs never faltering. Maka, however, almost immediately lets go, placing one arm on Crona's shoulders, her fingers on the other girl's neck, praying that she will feel her heart beat.

Almost 5 seconds passes and it is deadly quiet. Maka has yet to answer Soul's question, and he has never seen such an intense look pass her before. Then she feels it. Crona's heart thrums weakly, fluttering and barely there. But it still exists. Crona is still alive. That is all that matters at that moment.

"Her heartbeat's weak. We need to get her to a hospital." Maka commands, trying to lift the pink haired girl.

"She _attacked_ us, Maka. Who's to say she won't do it again?" Soul snaps, one half of his brain begging him to assist Maka in picking up the pink haired girl, the other half refusing, self preservation coming before helping an enemy.

"She won't. It was the drug..." Maka trails off, hissing as the feeling begins to return to her palms. They feel like they have been ripped in half, and she knows that it is not far from the truth. They need to get to a hospital... if not that, then some kind of medical facility.

"And how do you know that?" Soul snaps, glaring at her, as he eventually gives in to her will by propping Crona's unconscious form into the upright position, before heaving her over his shoulders roughly. He will help, but he will not just give in that easily.

"I... I just..." and for the first time, she seems at an absolute loss for words. How can she explain it to him? It's partly her gut, and partly... something else. Her mind may be at a blank, but her body remembers. "I just know, okay? Crona's not a bad person. It was just like with Azusa sensei..."

It is quiet once more as Soul furrows his brow. There she goes again, blaming the stupid drug. It wasn't that he didn't believe her, but that she continued to give him half finished sentences and half-assed explanations that it wasn't really surprising why he was fed up. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Then what about you?" He reprimands harshly, as her eyes narrow in confusion and fear.

"W-what about me?"

"Don't play dumb, Maka... You almost _killed_ her, for god's sake. Your eyes were _black_. What the fuck happened?" She appears to shrink in her boots at his words, still unable to formulate a response. She looks back up at him, about to respond, before he interrupts again and begins to walk back towards the morgue, Crona's limp body hung over his shoulders. "Don't you _dare_ give me your 'it was the drug' crap. Even though my grades are less than average, it does not mean I'm dumb, okay? So don't treat me like a child."

Maka follows behind him, head lowered. She knew this was coming sooner or later. She just wished it was later, rather than sooner, because this wasn't the best area, and neither were in the best condition.

"I'm not... I just-" she tries to defend, before he cuts her off once more.

"What about the burn on your back, huh? What about your father? How do you know so much about the drug? Why could you beat _Crona_ in a fucking knife fight, when she is obviously trained for that sort of thing!"He fires off the questions, one after another, all the half answers she's given him in the past coming back to her.

"What about the killer? What the hell did you two talk about when he took you away? Why were there fucking _cameras_ in the dorm? Where are the bodies? ANSWER ME!" He growls, as he stomps on the ground in frustration.

''Have you ever considered that maybe I don't know either, Soul!" She eventually snaps in response. Her patience is next to none, and no matter how much each of his questions brings up the horrible guilt of half answers, she knows she has to make him see that _she is in the same fucking boat as him._ She doesn't know why she knows the things she does... She doesn't know why she blacked out. She doesn't know why she almost _murdered_ Crona.

He falls silent after her words. The underlying tension still remains, but for now he will let it go. His body is punishing him for speaking so many words with his jaw in the condition it is. He knows that Maka's hands must be even worse. That was part of the reason he started talking, not only to express his opinions, and ask what he wants - no - _needs_ to know, but to distract her.

"Where should we take her?"He forces out, as she increases her pace, so that she is walking alongside him, to assist in navigation.

"We'll take her back to Shibusen." She says at last, the cold rock beneath their feet slowly growing damp and silvery with moss and moisture. They would be in the disgusting water again soon. He soldiers on. Just like Maka said before, they were alive. That was all that mattered.

They reach the surface not too long after. His whole body aches. It is not just Crona's weight upon his shoulders that causes the strain and ache. It is the weight of the unanswered questions that hang above his head. His jaw has lost all feeling, which he is grateful for, but he doesn't think he will be able to talk properly.

The light is blinding. The rusted grate is heaved open by Maka's miniscule hands, and she then hops nimbly to the surface. At the sight of the glorious sunlight, a tiny smile graces his lips. They made it.

"Come on." Maka says with a worn expression. She offers him a hand, to help him out of the sewer. Just as he is about to grab hold of it, he notices the condition it is in. They are so damaged, torn and bloody he can barely recognize them as hands. His eyes widen - he had no idea that the damage was _this_ bad. He sees the pained grimace behind her forced smile, and decides that they need to get back. He ascends without her assistance, keeping a tight hold on Crona's form. Maka looks almost taken aback for a split second at his refusal of her help, before she realizes what made him do so. Her hands... She has managed to ignore it until now, but the pain is returning full force. She does not want to deal with a hospital right now.

"Let's get back...'' she says quietly, as Soul nods in agreement. It's been a long day for them both, and it is only noon. As they trudge, ignoring the stares and disgusted glances they get from passersby, Soul realizes that they didn't accomplish anything they set out to prove. They only added more fucking questions, with very little answers in return. The warmth on his back and the pitifully shallow breathing in his ear, however, makes him realize that maybe they have gained something else - or someone. Someone who would finally be able to answer their questions and put a close to this horrible, horrible chapter of their lives.


	33. Mother

**Author's Note; Well, this was late. Basically, this was all meant to be at the end of the last chapter, so I ran out of things to write because I didn't want to run over into what was meant to be in the next one. Hopefully, this is alright and we finally get some development - sort of- from a character that hasn't been in it for awhile.**

**On a completely unrelated but also amazing note, I have a mere 4 days of school left until summer holidays. SUCESS. But, I get all my exams back tomorow *shudder.**

**If there are no updates, then it means my parents have stripped me of my human rights, because of my horrid marks. *cries.**

**Onto more important buissness. I drew a winter picture for Soul and Maka, if you feel like checking it out. I was hoping to use it in a scene for a future chapter, but had to draw it in advance ;p. Link is below, just murder the spaces.**

**http: / / gone-phishing . deviantart . com / # / d4htt07**

**I want to thank Thatguyuare, wombattree, Anon, KirstyKakes, Drew Secrets, bushin 1996, omepear, anonymous, Nighte Thief, bunannza, bluenian98, cheng, nitemaren, ononimous, Philoctetes, and Inugami-chan. I LOVE YOU ALL! Seriously, you people are amazing. Thank you all to everyone who can be bothered to review, as well as thank you to all the people who favourite and alter. It really does make my day.**

**Please enjoy the read, and if you have time to drop a review, please do. Thank you again!**

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><p>The walk home is silent. And long. Soul muses over how, in such a short time, Shibusen has replaced the mansion he had lived in all his life in only a matter of weeks. He supposes it wasn't that difficult. After Wes was gone, the only thing his family's house meant to him was money, food and the occasional argument. It wasn't surprising that after only a few weeks in an environment such as Shibusen, was enough for a feeling of attachment and dependency to grow on the shoulders of those he considered morons, AKA; his dorm mates. He doesn't know how well he would cope if he was sent back. He thinks that the isolation would drive him insane.<p>

The sun is hot, but he is still grateful it is there. It lights the path home for the two of them, Maka walking in front, glaring heatedly at any passersby who scorned them. On occasion, some held varying looks of pity, which only led to Maka shooting them an even more heated look.

His jaw is swollen, and he knows it will need medical attention. Not broken; but fractured in the very least. But every time he dares to dwell on his own pain and suffering, as soon as he catches sight of Maka striding confidently before him, and the feelings instantly dissipate. He can see as plain as day how each step causes a minuscule tremble to course through her body, and how her hands remain permanently clenched within the confines of her clothes to attempt to stop the blood flow. It was a miracle she hadn't passed out yet. That's why he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for himself. She had the short end of the stick, and was not complaining one bit.

He bets it's her pride - which could easily topple the largest skyscraper - that stops her. At the same time, he knows that without it, she would barely be recognizable as Maka Albarn. An image of a weak, submissive Maka forms in his mind, and he instantly wants to snicker. It is so wrong, which is why he finds it so amusing. In his mind's eye, he sees her in one of the maid uniforms from the mansion, calling him like some kind of royalty not daring to raise a curious eyebrow at his words. The mental image is so hilariously _wrong _and not Maka, that he lets a few short barks of laughter escape his lips.

Maka turns her head back towards him slightly, raising one eyebrow with a slight cock of her head, as if to say _what is it?_

He grins to himself, but she catches it. He shakes his head slowly, his fringe shadowing his face from the sun, before picking up his pace. _Don't worry about it,_ his actions tell her.

Maka simply walks beside him now, fed up with the people lining the street. They are in familiar territory for her, and it makes her incredibly uncomfortable. Trees line their way, until they slowly give way to a grassy field. She spots it then, the playground where she had first encountered the white haired boy trailing beside her. For a singular moment, she wishes that she could go back to that moment, so many years ago, as they comforted one another from what they thought at the time to be the real terrors of the world. Oh, how naïve they were.

And then reality comes crashing back down upon her. She is no longer a child. The swing set is for children... Amidst the disappointment, there is another feeling bubbling deep within her chest. there is a part of her that does not want to return to that moment, so many years ago. The part of her that lives for now, and not in the past - it tells her she has made something of herself, and even when the truth is shrouded by so many lies and secrets, the lines between good and evil and black and white begin to blur into an endless gray, as long as she has _him_ by her side, she will end up smiling in the end.

Soul can't believe where they have ended up. The swing set is the same, if not in worse condition that it was the last time he saw it. The whole area looks completely different, transformed by the sun into something else. There is a feeling of safety and warmth that envelops him, and he does not know why.

As he glances at the rusty chains, and the fragile seats, he is glad that he is here right now with Maka by his side, rather than back then, having her just an arm's length away, so close but also so very far out of reach.

He notices that Maka has paused in her movements too, and he grunts shortly to get her to move on. There is a small portion of him that still holds the bitter anger and resentment at the lies and unanswered questions that dominate his life, but he is mature enough to shove it aside. Right now, she needed him to simply be himself. She would never admit needing any kind of help, but he knows without her saying anything that it is her pride that does not let her ask for help from others. He knows this, because he is almost exactly alike her in that sense.

"Let's go before you pass out from blood loss." He jokes with a light-hearted grin, as she turns to him, before nodding shortly and continuing on.

"Not before you faint from exhaustion. Or choke because your jaw is too swollen to breathe." she replies in the same tone, a small tinge of worry seeping into her voice. He almost sighs at her. Isn't she the one with the torn up hands, and the _real_ injuries? He just has a weight upon his back, and a swollen jaw. Sure it hurts to talk, but he is willing to put up with it for her sake, if it helps distract her from her own injuries.

They fall silent, and before they know it, their feet lead them back to where this all began. The gates of Shibusen loom in the horizon, and to both Soul's and Maka's surprise, there is a silhouette pacing frantically back and forth. As they approach, the silhouette slowly turns into a blob, which turns into a figure, which turns into a woman, which finally turns into the school nurse, Medusa sensei.

Her eyebrows are creased, her eyes are frantic and she is so distracted by her pacing that she doesn't even notice the two students. Soul's eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and relief. Thank god! There are bags - dark ones - that lurk beneath the nurse's eyes, Soul notes. He fails to notice Maka tensing behind him, and the dark glare that the girl sends the nurse's way.

Maka's reaction towards the nurse was actually fairly similar to Soul's at the beginning, being something varying from relief to surprise. That was until snippets of conversations best left forgotten filtered into her mind.

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><p><em>"Especially when someone on the outside gift wraps you an object that is perfectly capable of murder."<em>

_"Oh, by the way. You'll have to thank Medusa for me, next time you see her."_

_"I decided to employ a new subordinate, one who would hopefully help me to produce some results. Her name was Medusa."_

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><p>Maka can't stop herself from expressing her emotions towards the conniving bitch. She was the one who set that... that <em>monster<em> free. That meant that she indirectly caused all the deaths at Shibusen too... Who the fuck knows? Maybe she's the one who betrayed Asuza-sensei, and destroyed her life along with her honour in one swift injection. Actually, it fit. It fucking fit too well. As a nurse, she would have authority over things like that. "Take this medicine'', or ''this vaccine'', and nobody would question it. And now that same woman _dares_ to show her face around here, thinking that nobody would catch on? _I will catch you and expose you for who you really are, Medusa... just you watch._ Maka promises to herself, as she attempts to regain her composure.

''Oh my god!" Medusa-sensei gasps, as she spots haggard condition of the two students, along with the motionless body upon Soul's shoulders. He grimaces as he attempts to form words, his body resisting with all its might.

"They needs help. Both Crona and Maka." He bites out, carefully taking Crona off his shoulders, as the nurse approaches and takes Crona carefully into her arms.

Medusa doesn't know what has happened. She saw the two leave earlier, and immediately felt a sense of danger. She wanted to follow them so badly, just to make sure something exactly like this didn't occur. She feels like kicking herself for her own stupidity. Of course it would happen! They were only kids. Maybe if she was there, she could have helped. Her eyes prickle at the notion that their injuries could have been prevented if she had been there for them.

The white haired boy - an Evans, if she recounts correctly - has his jaw hanging in the wrong position. From what Medusa can see, it is either dislocated or broken. As the thought enters her mind, she wonders how the poor boy was able to even talk a full sentence.

The girl who she had previously treated - Maka Albarn, she remembers - stands hunched, wearing a look which was a mixture of both loathing and fury. It is directed solely at herself, and Medusa feels like shuddering under the power of her glare. But there is something else. Periodically, her expression falters, revealing the poor girls carefully concealed inner turmoil. She shudders, and Maka's whole body quakes with what Medusa recognizes as pain. The nurse quickly deduces that she is quite literally writhing in agony. She knows that there is an injury, and quickly notices how her hands are stuffed in her pockets, and how the pockets bleed red.

She tries to analysis the third person, the unconscious one. As her eyes make contact with the figure in her arms, her heart stops beating. Flashes of memories fly through her mind. A four year old girl laughing as she played ring around the rosy with her dear mother one afternoon under the sun. The same girl in the arms of many men wearing black, being dragged away kicking and screaming. The pain of loss, and the torment of failure to protect haunting the mother's mind forever after.

The name "Crona" escapes the mother's lips before she has a chance to retract the statement. Both Maka and Soul stare at her with wide eyes, but she does not - cannot notice. All she can see is the child she lost so many years ago, lying unmoving - motionless in her arms.


	34. Resolve

**Author's Note; I'm alive! Wooo! So, where have I been you ask? Not in the depths of hell as I anticipated, but moving from crappy hotel to crappy hotel because our house is being varnished or something, and the fumes are toxic. So I have pretty much been moving about, and not had time to write. When I finally got back to the house, I found that all my inspiration and ideas had left me, and almost gave up on the story. It was my very first case of writer's block involving this particular story, and to put it bluntly, I dug myself a hole and instead of climbing out of it, I just dug deeper. **

**Now, it was actually a review that kicked some inspiration into me, and got me back into writing. So a really big thanks to Bushin1996. It was just what I needed! Thank you so much! **

**On a completely unrelated note, my grades weren't that bad, (almost straight As), but I find it incredibly ironic that essentially, my lowest mark was in art. :P I had one of those old fashion teachers who firmly believe that digital art is not art, and anime is not art either. XP**

**More importantly, I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I can still hardly believe I hit 300 reviews! It's amazing. This chapter will push the word count over 100,000 so I want to thank every single person who made it possible. **

**Thanks to Inugami-chan, Drew Secrets, Alik Takeda, omgpear, bunannza, bluenian98, Philoctetes, Thatguyuare, RedRosesTea, and Bushin1996 for reviewing my last chapter. MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

**Disclaimer; I do not own Soul Eater in any way.**

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><p>Maka sits with a thoughtful expression, staring blankly at the multitude of bandages covering her hands and forearms. Red stains dot the cloth, but for the most part, her wounds have stopped bleeding. Soul is in the next room, having that bitch attend to his. Although it pains her to admit it, while the older woman was fussing over her wounds, it caused a long lost feeling to bubble in her chest. How long had it been since she had received the care of an adult like that? Since her mother was alive? No, even before that. There's only so much care a bed ridden mother can give. But then, just as the warmth began to overtake her chest, she was reminded of what the woman before her had done. What she <em>was<em>. Then the blinding hatred returned, and she refused to lock eyes with the woman again.

Soul had shot her a concerned look, but not voiced any of his thoughts on the matter. Maka was both relieved and frustrated at him for that. A part of her wants him to question her actions, so that she can explain to him just what kind of a woman "Medusa-sensei" really was. The other part of her didn't want to drag him further into her own troubles. Protect him if you will. Either way, in Maka's mind, Medusa was guilty.

And then Maka remembers the look on the older woman's face when she spotted Crona. There were varying emotions that splayed across her features, only a few of which Maka was able to name. There was recognition there. Relief, too. But there were so many more, all of which remained a mystery.

Now she had to sit in the waiting room – alone – as Soul was still being 'treated' and Crona was still unconscious. True, she could have stayed, but then again she didn't know how much longer she could control her emotions around Medusa. A part of her knew, even then, that there would come a time when her blinding anger and reckless hatred towards the older woman would fade, leaving her to deal with the bitterness and agony of the sense of betrayal that lay beneath the maelstrom of other emotions. It was not a joyous revelation, but none the less, Maka knew she would have to be prepared. She needed to be more mature than give in to the anger and hate. She needed to step up, and deal with this head on, instead of ignoring it like she wanted to. She wouldn't run this time.

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><p>Medusa digs hurriedly through her countless drawers, in search of a suitable pain medication she could prescribe to Soul. He sits patiently, watching her out of one eye, all the while staring blankly at Crona. He hasn't said a word since Maka left the room, but Medusa can see as clear as day that her behavior has affected him. His brows are creased, his fists are clenching and unclenching and his mouth is set into a grim line. Whatever he is thinking about, it is nothing to snicker at. She wants to tread lightly, not wanting to provoke a negative reaction out of the boy.<p>

"Can you speak, Soul?" she asks softly, as her fingers finally make contact with the bottle she was searching for.

He nods, before whispering "Yeah, but it hurts." She immediately feels horrible. She should have made him write his answer down, instead of put him through even more pain.

"I'm sorry." She says with a downcast expression, handing him the bottle of pills, while forcing a small smile to grace her features.

"Take two now, and with every meal for the next few days. That should ease the pain a bit." She explains, moving to fill up a small plastic cup full of water for him to swallow. He follows her instructions without complaint, offering her a tiny smile before bowing his head and leaving the room without another word.

Medusa screws her eyes shut, and more than anything, wonders if she is dreaming. There is a part of her that wishes, hopes and prays that this is all a horrible dream. But her heart is screaming that this is reality. That her only child, the only person who she ever truly loved with all her heart, had returned to her.

She doesn't want to believe it is true, because if she does, she is only setting herself up for a pain even more unimaginable than before. Because if Crona is torn from her once more, just when she finally got her back... she doesn't know if she would be able to withstand another blow like that. Every person had their limit. And no matter what hideous and heinous acts she has committed in her past, she is still human.

She allows her eyes to open as she slowly forms a new resolve. She will fight harder. She will not lose again. Crona would stay safe, and once and for all, the horror of her past would stop haunting her everyday life. _Asura_... she thinks to herself as a dark expression slowly spreads across her face. _I __**will**__ take you down._

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><p>Stein watches with an emotionless expression as the Evans boy passes him without a word. They bump shoulders and make eye contact before heading their own way. Stein can see as clear as day that the boy is in pain, but he is dealing with it in his own way. The door before him is a mystery, and yet it is still nothing compared to the enigma that lies behind. "Medusa Gorgon", the name tag says. Yet he knows that is not her name - her real one, at least. He informed Shinigami-sama of this development, and he didn't find it particularly surprising that he already knew. That guy knew everything.<p>

Which brought him back to the inevitable problem at hand. If Shinigami-sama knew, and still didn't do anything about it, then was Medusa not a threat? Or was there a reason behind Shinigami-sama allowing her to stay without question at Shibusen? Everything that was happening around the grey haired professor appeared too methodical, too coincidental and too planned. There was someone behind the scenes pulling the strings. Stein hated the blank that came with this "puppet master". What did they know about this man / woman? Absolutely nothing, other than they had rather sadistic tendencies. But, if thought about carefully enough, Stein was sure that even that tidbit of information could be more important that he first thought. He sighs heavily, not having moved 2 steps from where he stopped outside the door. His thoughts were going in circles today. Perhaps a visit to his favorite - or most interesting- nurse would clear his mind? Although her true motive and name remained a mystery, he would admit that she amused him. Her mind was a great adversary, almost topping his own. He would never admit that she bested him in mental trivia more than once.

As he pushed the door open, just enough to see a small fraction of the room, he immediately spotted the centre of his thoughts. She was seating, staring blankly at an unconscious figure lying on the bed. Stein frowned very slightly when he expression began to morph into something he was familiar with. It was more than anger, and yet it was calm at the same time. A contradiction in itself, yes, and if anyone had asked if Stein could describe it he would use the words 'indescribable', as well as the closest thing to "pure evil".

There was a tiny bubble of disappointment growing in his chest. He had sincerely hoped that she was not responsible or involved with any of the tragic events occurring all over the place. But after witnessing that expression, he had his doubts. He closed the door with an almost inaudible click, and left without anyone ever knowing he was there.

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><p>When Soul finally makes eye contact with Maka once more, there is relief apparent in her eyes. He briefly wondered why, but dismissed the thought as soon as it arose. She smiles at him, but it feels forced. They walk out of the room together, without a word.<p>

The sun is no longer shining bright, gone the warm afternoon sun and replaced with the twilight. The sky almost appears a deep purple in places and the lack of stars, and even the moon itself makes it seem almost surreal. The silence that lies between them is not of an awkward sort. It is comfortable. He does not talk because he does not feel the need. She doesn't because she knows that it will still cause him pain to form a response. They are both drained from the day's events, but they still have to face their dorm mates when they get back. Maka's eyes fall from the sky, where they rest on the cobbled ground slowly scrolling by before her. The Thompson sisters and Tsubaki were the closest thing to 'girlfriends' she had ever had in her life, and yet there was always this distance between them. An infinitely large gap, formed from the lies and secrets that shrouded their everyday lives. There is a part of Maka that wants to let it all out. To tell them... everything. She wants to be able to share her feeling on what's happening, to someone other than Soul. Not that Soul was not a reliable shoulder to lean on, or anything like that, but it was because he was too reliable. The closer she grew to him, the more dependent she became on him. And she hated it, but there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. So, she may love the guy in a less than platonic way. Whoop-dee-fricken'-doo. It wasn't like he felt the same way. By opening up even further to him and only him, she was also opening up who she really was. And the more he became imbedded so deeply in her life that she could not imagine a life without him by her side, the more these thoughts scared her. Simply because there would be no eternity walking hand in hand with him. Besides, at the rate they were going, he would be in heaven and she would be in hell in only a couple of weeks.

She almost snickered at that. Flirting with danger seemed to be all she did these days. She smiles to the moonless night, and wishes upon an invisible star that, in 10 years time, she would be able to look upon the same sky and smile right back.

* * *

><p>Soul fidgets with his pockets as they walk. They smell like shit. Literally. Trudging through sewage has a tendency to do that to you. He wants a shower, and he wants it badly. He doesn't think Maka has taken the time to smell him - or herself, for that matter. She is much too caught up... doing whatever she was doing. Staring at the night sky? He shrugs her weird behavior off without a second thought. She is anal about hygiene, where as he was pretty much classified as a slob. So if <em>he<em> was desperate for a shower, then he didn't even want to imagine what she would be like when she took a whiff. Actually, he predicts that it will be amusing, and waits while the blank look on her face remains as she gazes at the stars. What is she looking for? He doesn't know the answer to that question, just like he doesn't know the answer to a lot of questions about Maka. He could tell you without the slightest flaw how she would react if he left his dirty clothes around the house. He could predict the exact curses and number of bruises he would receive, too. But she was enigmatic in her feelings. She could be furious, before placid, before grieving all in a matter of minutes. He wonders if all girls are this damn complicated, or it is just this one.

He is surprised when she turns to him, with a look he cannot fathom.

"I'm going to tell them..." she says, confidence lining her voice and expression still a mystery. He squints at her, seeking clarification, as speaking is too much of a hassle.

"The dorm..," she explains as his jaw falls open. "I'm going to tell them, everything."


End file.
